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.

   

Phenomenally Breezy

       Vogt was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, looking through a transit, fixed on top of a short tripod, while a scanner did it's own thing twenty feet away.  Opened his closed eye and peered over the instrument,  the subsidence ran in a straight line, the width stayed within ten or twenty feet, depth from zero to.. Lucky had made his turn and was coming back on the row where the deepest depression started.  He wouldn't really know how deep it was until the corn had been cut.  Closed one eye and peered into the scope, flipped the 4X extender, the image was a little blurry, too much wind, a big gust blew a bunch of husks, chaff, and lose stalks into the air; it all seemed to fly at him at once, he squinted, ducked down little, grabbed the transit as it was hit and tipping over, just in time to witness the optical phenomenon of apparent size when scanner will fall over onto the combine eating it's way to the subsidence.

   

A Wall of Bright

 Both sets of eye watched the march of the corn plants to certain doom -- hypnotic, plant after plant, the wind picked up, and blew across the tops of the stalks in a wave, hit the side of the combine and blew the piled up chaff into a swirling cloud; that converged with the sun, at ten in the morning, with not a cloud in the sky, into a massive wall of light to one side and in front of the combine.  Lucky slowed a bit, poor visibility, a strong gust hit, snapped the tops off from just above the ear; roared through the mirrors, antennas, cameras, and other dangles; and blew the amorphous wall of bright away.  Vogt snapped out of it and " do you have the latest survey maps of the subsidence".  blurted out, with out a check.  Lucky slowed even more,"thought I had the latest, but I don't have any survey marks". Just as he said it an external thought germinated, just breaking the through the surface realty, "just watch it kid": It was his neural I.D., so he was not being hacked into, not that such a thing had ever been done.  Was it even possible?  Just watch it kid?  Watch what?  Then it clicked, a bulb went on, a light came from within and illuminated this particular situation, and a thought formed of his own will: this guy is not a soil scientist and I do know him.  Then  the unsettling: the other Lucky faintly chimed in "you got it, now follow the breadcrumbs"