day 14, and rolling in the mud
hey everyone. i'm still in georgia; something about the deep south is magnetic to me. she is hot, sticky, slow, rustic and beautiful. swampy dirt roads, the warm, raw smell of salt marshes, stormy beaches and lazy moss-draped oaks steaming in the sun. i surprised ohio on his island, where we party and play during the night and while he is at work during the day, i explore back roads and marshes and southern hospitality. armadillos, possums, salamanders, sheep frogs, big loud blue bottle flies the size of your toe.
and, from the moment i stepped barefoot back onto the dirt path to the hostel, it was like i'd never left. swimming naked, singing in the hot kitchen, shooing a little tan chicken off the porch and cutting up peppers for dinner. last night i found myself on the cool porch, under tiny stars and guitar chords, with a mason jar of wine in one hand and ohio's fingertips in the other. the treehouse i woke up in this morning was hot and sweet-smelling, and at breakfast a mama chicken brought out her eight brand-new babies for the first time.
this is my south. don't it make you wanna stay, stay, stay for a while?
and, from the moment i stepped barefoot back onto the dirt path to the hostel, it was like i'd never left. swimming naked, singing in the hot kitchen, shooing a little tan chicken off the porch and cutting up peppers for dinner. last night i found myself on the cool porch, under tiny stars and guitar chords, with a mason jar of wine in one hand and ohio's fingertips in the other. the treehouse i woke up in this morning was hot and sweet-smelling, and at breakfast a mama chicken brought out her eight brand-new babies for the first time.
this is my south. don't it make you wanna stay, stay, stay for a while?