Whistle Down the Wind

Driving along the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain, I could still see striking damage left over from Katrina:


Even buildings that were elevated showed damage down below. These buildings are both within a few blocks of the lake. There may be damage down below, but you'd certainly rather have been this homeowner than the guy who owned the building above:


Even along the highway it was pretty clear where the hurricane had hit. Many trees were still standing, but all over you could see trees that had been broken like matchsticks, leaning at crazy jumbled angles.

Ice Cream Castles in the Air

This cloud followed me from Huntsville to Mobile. I'm across two state lines now, in Texas, and I think I've finally shaken it.

Getting Over It

As you near Mobile, you start to find yourself on causeways reminiscent of southern Louisiana's bayou country. For miles you're riding on interstate that sits on pilings driven deep into mud.


Then you hit this eye-catching bridge over the Mobile River, and you arrive in Mobile.

Ain't That a Peach

Georgia brags about its peaches, but if you need enough for a large cobbler you should check out this Roald Dahl-esque beauty from Alabama.

Old Man River

Muscling barges up the Tennessee River, in northern Alabama

Signing the Times

A lot of road signs ("No Passing," "Bridge Ices in Winter") are pretty standard from state to state. Other signs remind you where you are. I don't see these too often in California:

Still trying to figure which way is up:

When will they finally adopt the old Lynyrd Skynrd song as their slogan? "Sweet Home Alabama" is 30 years old already, and it's in more jukeboxes than "Stars Fell on Alabama" (the license place motto) or "America the Beautiful" (even if Ray Charles cut a killer version).


As an old union loyalist, my heart swells when I see these things on buildings (in or around Gadsden, Alabama):

Cemetry Gates

No vacation is complete without a visit to a cemetery, and we found a doozy. Nice stones, nice setting (just like a good wedding ring), but it turned out it also held hitherto unknown ancestors of one of the people we'd come here to marry off.


Note the Spanish moss motif in the headstone. One day when I'm really bored, I'll go in and fix the color balance so the bas-relief stands out the way it should.


This one also features local foliage: the palmetto.


This is the joint where the shenanigans of later that evening were to take place. It was a private party; I'm not going to post pictures here. But it was swell. We all went home happy (except the part about having to go home).

The Spanish moss grafts a real air of Gothic shag to the surroundings.


Needs some foundation work. But otherwise a perfectly respectable house.

More Wildlife

This all took place down by Fort Fremont, which is no longer in use. We found a guy on the beach building a replica in sand. This is the real thing, from either the Spanish American War or World War II or some war. The guy on the beach said it never fired a shot in anger.

Found all kinds of wildlife. This guy's just taking off.
Remember the other crab we found? This is his little brother.

Finally it was time to head back to the hotel. We had ourselves a good day, but eventually schedules intrude again, and you have to drop back into structured activities.

Get Crabby

We learned types had some high-level discussions over anthropomorphism and whether crabs or people can ever be truly happy.

Now that's what I call a crab! We found two horseshoe crabs, on on the sand and one on these rocks. Both were alive; the one on the rocks here clung to the rocks when I checked to see if he was alright. (He? She?)

I've always been a little fuzzy on whether the horseshoe is good luck when it faces up or when it faces down.

Sheila and Tom remarked that the crab was heavier than you might expect--a lot of weight in the shell. I wasn't 100% sure we should relocate the crab; I thought if it was happy sunning itself in the sand, we should leave it alone. (I grew up watching Star Trek, and I internalized the Prime Directive about not interfering in other cultures.) Sheila, who claimed she was a crab whisperer, said it was unhappy and getting dry in the sun, and we should rescue it.


When it got put down again, it seemed happy enough and started wriggling. Also, it didn't clamp on to anyone's face and stick a thingy down their throat to start laying eggs, so I suppose the expedition was a success.

Sheila communing with her new friend.

Foliage and Light

Let's not forget South Carolina is the Palmetto State.

The weather continued beautiful, blue skies and not too muggy.
At night, however, the bugs tended to show their carnivorous nature.

The sunsets continued to be stellar. Which I suppose every sunset is, in a literal way.


Still working on the "moonlight through the pines" thing.