We went on our annual trip to the deep south this past week — a trip we always take when my fathers work takes him there. And a trip we always enjoy, having a tradition of walking around the quaint little town with ties to the antebellum period, taking “alligator hikes”, and just generally having fun.
The humidity is always higher down there — hair is blowing every which way, and you are covered with moist air the minute you walk outside. Spanish moss is proficient, growing in the trees and lending a quaint air of charm to the small town.
For all of you history lovers, this town is special because it is one of the few this far south that escaped the ravages of the War Between the States. The women of the town went out and turned aside the union general when he was advancing to decimate the area. The war was over, there was no need to burn everything down, and the union army was exhorted to be a gracious winner.
This year we took the two new puppies with us, which added a twist to everything.
We saw many alligators, even spying a picnic area where you could feed the alligators — which we did, with marshmallows. It was fenced in — but that ceased to be a comfort when my sisters foot slipped underneath the fence into the water……if her foot can go under, can the beasts go under their side to our side…..????
Another southern summer has finally begun.
Beads of sweat glisten like pearls in the sun.
Days so hot and heavy with heat.
The wind that blows brings no relief.
I know of a place that is nice and cool.
But it’s not an ocean or even a pool.
It’s a river the shade of whiskey where the water flows.
Where time stands still and a cool breeze blows.
The riverbank sand is the color of gold,
and to my eyes it is a sight to behold.
When the sun goes down and day turns to night,
the fireflies come out to dance in the moonlight.
Frogs and crickets sing in perfect harmony,
a southern summer song, a sweet melody.