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Ten or fifteen minutes later, the harvester's hopper (if that's the word) was full and the driver backed up, turned and headed off the field, to meet up with the truck that was waiting across the street in the entrance to Big Maple Lake Park. The harvester would discharge the load of soybeans into the truck and go back to work.
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As for me, I turned and headed back up the tracks in the near darkness, hoping not to get hit by a train or shot by a deer-hunter or eaten by a coyote.
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*I really, really hate that camera of mine.
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