Dancing with the Dust Devil.

       A dust devil used the harvesters heat column and profile as a leverage to gain strength,definition and mass; vacuumed up the dust that had some how settled on the harvester, and took aim for Vogt.  Stopped, astonished, looked up the length of it, looked down the row, then looked back where he had just came from; a conundrum, he walk as fast as he could one way and it seemed as though the thing had changed course to cut him off, he ran back the other way, slowed a bit to look over his shoulder and the damn thing was shadowing him.  In a perfect state helplessness, he sat down and gave up, waiting for it to suck him up and spit him out.  Swirling, and scouring the ground as it approached, the colossal dust devil danced around him in a primitive ceremonial ritual preparing him as the sacrificial offering; he lay down on his stomach, gripping the stalks on either side, digging his toes into the dirt waiting for the end.  The crashing sound moved over him and although he fully expected to be flung up into the sky, he was only pelted with dirt,chaff, and other debris.  No torn limbs, just thoroughly impregnated with grime.  Sat up, and watched it dance off,  doing what only could be described as cross between the Hokey Pokey, and the Twist, he even thought he heard a tune in the crashing wind.

   

Exhale Delta Waves

Vogt was lost, looking over at that ivy, a massive field of it.  The combine made the turn at the other end, the auger wagon roared to the truck with a full load.  One or two nights in Agropolis would be a trip down memory lane, a regular tangle of recollections he had never wanted to collect, M-corp could be in for a feast. As a rule: Vogt operated on a superficial level, denying a deeper connection to M-corp, moving around from place to place; a rootless, unsettled way of life, that made sure every day was new, and when he eventually started to develop a familiarity with a location, he would request a transfer.  M-corp had caught on to this strategy that was employed by quite a few of its associates and a mass involuntary separation occurred. 
 At the time he had been embroiled in project that had become a bag of snakes, and separation would've left the snake problem to one the true 'bleeds chartreuse' M-corp executives, and that kind of admistrivia was not in her job description.  It was mess, but in avoiding that large purge, it had afforded him an immunisation of a sort: he was allowed to keep some memories from loading into M-corp, in exchange for becoming a snake charmer, and was usually rushed in a moments notice to put out the figurative fire.  It seemed a good trade off, he didn't have to go through the human resource bureaucracy for a transfer, and in-fact was constantly on the move, a dream job at M-corp.  
  He pulled up the probe, packed away the seismic device, transit, scanner,and tripods; only slightly recognizing that he seemed to have gotten the best of M-corp, and that he had never heard of anybody or thing, coming out ahead on a negotiation with that behemoth.  He started for the wagon, walking down the long straight row, trying not to go there, but he did, and subconsciously triggered a delta wave message, that started with 'Dear, M-corp', as is only proper, and ended correctly with 'sincerely Ward Vogt'.