Today-ish. Blanco, Texas. Commercial Marigold farm. 1 hour north of San Antonio. Sounds of Texas. 85 degree temperatures. The sun rises on a field of marigolds, Cempasúchil. Shades of oranges and yellows go on for miles over the horizon. Dozens of people are in the fields, dispersed.

People of many different ages, all wearing layers to protect their skin, bandanas, hats and sunglasses. Children running through fields, playing under shaded trees, and also working. Young men with bundles of Cempasúchil are staggering through the pathways to place them on the trucks waiting to be hauled away. Women and men are haunched over, searching for and picking the perfectly ripened flowers, disposing of the wilted ones. There are more wilted flowers than there have been before. Elderly folks drive the trucks and prune the leaves all in the midst of scolding children for running over their toes. All working in a beautiful harmony under the sun.