Not long ago after rachel had posted pictures of yet another fabulous vacation, [think London/Paris], making me sigh that my vacations lately have just been away from my desk. At home. In my own backyard.
Foxy rachel reminded me that SHE has never seen my backyard.
So one recent Sunday afternoon we all piled in the truck and I took pictures of interesting things along the way. Especially anything that screamed "old South" to me. Enjoy!
There is literally no where in the South that you can travel without seeing this creeping green monster which eats every stationery thing in it's path. Say it with me Savannah...KUDZU!
Originally brought here from Japan to stop soil erosion, it soon decided to ensure NOTHING moved. Ever.
Scariest story I ever read starred Kudzu. As it grew and took over a man's front yard, it began quietly "eating" everything in it's path, from stray cats, to the Mailman to the kid delivering the newspaper. The line I never forgot was, "If you listen for a moment, you can hear Kudzu growing".
Let's try more traditional. Any ideas?
Before it ends up on a stick as a cotton swab/bud, it starts in the field. When I was a kid, a field filled with this fluffy white stuff looked like popcorn to me. But before these photos, I never knew the bloom was pink!
Raw cotton, straight from the field, sitting at the Cotton Gin waiting to be processed.
Why put a cup on a stick? Think about it while I show you what use to pass as "ordinary" for homes in the old South.
Lovely example of old country home which use to be WAY out in the country. If you enlarge it, you'll see that's a For Sale sign just outside the gate. If you could see I snapped this from the truck, courtesy of a new 4 lane highway at the edges of that green, you'd probably know why it was for sale.
I was looking across the road when I caught this out of the corner of my eye and asked Hubby to turn around. Why was a bell tower standing all alone?
My guess is, like many small country churches, they paid off the original mortgage, then added what they couldn't afford the first time around. I've never seen one like this before! But that was nothing compared to what we ran into 15 minutes later. In the middle of literally NOWHERE!
This is a church. Honest. The sign said it was a Non-Denominational House of Worship. Although there was a small brick structure to the right, this was the main church. In the middle of all those cotton fields...palm trees and a building resembling a dome which fell off a Russian church.
But living in the South sometimes means taking things for granted that would make other folks look at you funny. We're a sentimental people. And no, that's not a gravestone in the field behind the tree draped with moss. [Although it's not unusual to see small family graveyards in the middle of nowhere].
It marks the place of an old railroad depot at what was once a bustling community. Now a dip in the road, perhaps the "headstone" monument is an ironic comment on the modern world.
They're not just found in the wild West. Windmills helped bring up water from wells. This one had a wooden water tower in the center of it, which collapsed. That tin cone was the roof.
Ah, the Swamp. It's not situated in one place..it's often just around the corner in these parts. What looks like green algae is actually a little round aquatic weed.
No gators sunning that day but Hubby borrowed my camera long enough to snap a shot of these happy turtles, lazing in the sun.
Across the road was the remains of an old grist mill. Most were used to grind corn, utilizing a running stream over a large wooden wheel. Like most things of that time, it sits here in parts...forgotten.
Figure out why someone would leave a cup on a stick by the side of the road yet? It's actually a Boll weevil trap, which is placed on the edges of cotton fields to lure the destructive critters away. Look closely and you'll see a small square at the top...perfume to draw in the critters. Once they look inside for a sweet smelling mate, they fall inside, never to crawl out. I refuse to admit how old I was before I realized that this wasn't just a cup left behind by a lazy farm hand.
Speaking of lazy.....
How lazy a field hand do you have to be when the weeds grow higher than your Scarecrow?
I leave you with this parting shot.
This would be our "oldest boy", Smokey. No, he's not sleeping. He's pouting. And he's telepathic. Because I'm pretty sure what he was saying to Hubby was, "Hey! Can't you explain to that photographer woman that riding Shotgun is MY my seat in this vehicle?"
Here's wishing you a good week!