Ken has a sense of deja vu – cotton in the Yuha desert – just like the Gobi in China..
The desert ended abruptly. The Dunhuang Basin. Cultivated crops. Workers dotted across the fields, small groups mostly. At first I thought they were picking tea but somehow the bushes didn’t seem quite right. None of the little buds I imagined you plucked. Eventually I stopped at the roadside, venturing over to a couple who’d waved as I’d approached. I was curious, intrigued. Cotton.