I drove through Sugar Valley yesterday in search of some photographs ahead of a turn in the weather which promised a mix of rain and snow. My first stop was Hillside Variety. It’s a small Amish place and I’ve always wanted to photograph the folks that work there. The last time I visited, the older woman behind the counter said that I was welcome to photograph anything in the store – except her. When I visited today there was another woman there, and just as I was about to ask if I could photograph her as she stood behind the counter, the woman I had spoken to on my previous visit entered and what little courage I had left me in an instant. I got back into the truck and took Mill Street to the south. I soon made out a team of six coming at me, they turned east and as they did the driver waved from his position at the front of the manure spreader he was pulling. As I passed I thought he seemed friendly enough so I stopped, turned around, and drove the lane the team had taken. The driver had positioned the spreader’s hatch under the terminal spout of a manure pump, the other end of which disappeared into the depths of the adjacent pit. I asked the young man if he minded if I took some photos of his team. He said that he didn’t know if the Boss Man [sic] would mind but he wasn’t home and he (the driver to whom I was speaking) said I should go ahead … so I did. I have a tremendous appreciation for these working teams and have posted about them before. It took me four minutes to turn off the truck, exchange my sneakers for muck boots, and squeeze off nearly fifty frames. The driver motioned he was ready and that I should move the truck out of the lane … I did so … and the team quickly and efficiently got back to work.