Thinking about my road trip across south Ga, and then going up to TN last week - all the sights I enjoyed along the way. And realizing you could decide to get comfortable most anyplace in the world and spend enough time there that it began to feel like 'home'. You'd open up your folding chair, find a cool spot in the shade to watch the world go by, with your choice of beverage in hand, and perhaps a bag of something crunchy to munchie on. You sit there for several years, get to know the lay of the land, become acquainted with frequent passers-by, learn the habits and language of the natives. Pretty soon you would start to discover you had unconsciously put down roots, and that place you randomly landed was becoming the starting point you venture from, and want to return to: Home.
I guess I am still hearing south GA call my name, remembering all the sights that make it unique. I've been driving around town, here in middle GA for several days, looking at trees and shrubs that put on their finery this time of year. Enjoying seeing the dogwood trees in bloom, both in the woods around the house, and other places all over town, around residences and city parks. Noticing overgrown areas where the vining, twining wisteria has spread, unchecked, over acres of land - kinda scary how it can be so invasive, but also beautiful with drapey, clumpy, bunchy fragrant blossoms dangling from the tree limbs where it has surreptitiously crept into the tops of pines. And a place at a residence on Macon Road that has the biggest most impressive yellow native azaleas, covered with blooms - amazing, just sitting there, waiting for hundreds of drivers to pass by and say: 'Oh, wow! Would'ja look at that!
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Remembering driving across the lower part of the state, along roads where people have turned loose vining Cherokee Rose plants, to cover fence-rows and climb up into tree tops. Seeing spots of bright pink color along the right of way across the southern edge of the state where wild azaleas are still thriving in their native environment. Kinda surprising to realize that someone with a shovel and good intentions has not pulled over to dig and take them home - but thankful they have been left in peace for all the rest of us to notice, smile, and later remember with delight. And those prolific little white lily plants that seem to magically appear in the low places along the highway: blooming by the hundreds in the damp rich soil along the right of way - dependably coming back to show off their bright smiling faces year after year. Popping up from sleeping bulbs so faithfully, right around Easter and putting on their finery for all the passing motorists to see and enjoy.
You have to believe that there are shrubs and trees, perennials blooming all over the northern hemisphere as the seasons change, with people awaiting the reappearance of remembered flowers in their familiar locations. So it's not just Me, longing for south GA, but folks everywhere watching for the things they recall from years past - the signs of spring that bring reminiscence of the past. I used to hear people in south GA say when the azaleas and dogwoods would flower simultaneously, gloriously that there was no prettier place in the world than Brooks County in the spring - but I expect that everyone everywhere feels that the view from their lawn chair when the colors of the season are at their height is the mostest and bestest on the planet: from African savannas, to Arctic tundra.
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