Walking trees

Every time I moan about something, I should remember that my life is good. When I think that the good half of the women of this planet work in fields, I must pause and think I am lucky.
From visiting Morocco I was surprised to find out that it was tradition for the women to carry heavy loads of grasses of one sort or another on their shoulders.
Even as we stopped in a largish city, I was more surprised when my friend pointed three dots further up the hill from us and said they were women. I blinked and then I saw the legs moving. I could hardly believe my eyes.  They looked like walking trees. I could not even guess their human figures. They were that covered with large branches, hunched as they walked about with their heavy loads. God, they are hard workers.
I didn't take a picture at the time. I should have.

So complimentary to this text, I am adding a picture I found on the internet of hard working women to give an idea to the reader and even though these are not the women I saw, we can still see that the mustard grasses seemed heavy enough on these Indian women.