Nature. Today we went down to Flint River. It had overflowed its banks and the silt brown water had swallowed several trees and picnic tables. There were rapids shooting up and spraying out over rocks in the middle of the flood. A loan palmetto grew from the bank. A hike up through the pine woods brought us to a wooden deck that overlooks a turn in the river. You could see all the way to the hills in the west, brown mostly in January, but striped with dark pine greens. There were deer prints in the clay, and coon. Mom and I sat on the banks and talked--about Delal, about Kurds, about Obama and grandma. I made her do a little dance for the cheap camera Jeremy bought her.
For lunch, we had slaw dogs and Brunswick stew at English's cafe in town. The slaw dogs were excellent, the cabbage finely grated like I like it. The owner of the cafe specializes in a kind of sloppy joe burger--ground meat topped with sauce. She says some local boys had fifty pounds of them freeze dried and sent over to their unit in Iraq. "Lord, they fought over 'em, them boys," she said. It was barbecued ribs for dinner down in Griffin. The cracklin' cornbread was especially good. This was one of those places out in the woods with "antiques" hanging on the walls. Old plow handles, road signs, irons, washboards etc. Michael, my nephew in law, says "no black people in sight." Then he looks back in the kitchen and says "Figures. There's some guy back doing the dishes."
I had forgotten what starry skies looked like. The moon is near full tonight. Orion hangs over the Western horizon--"there were so many they nearly jingled together" to quote Orhan Kemal.