The South
Men still drive trucks and hold doors around here. These ladies gossip about you after you leave the store. None of the yards have fences and people still wave. I keep waitin' on the rain so I can hear that sweet deep thunder. I don't know exactly what they mean by "Low Country", but I think I can feel it. Slow hot and still. Ladies love their husbands here and don't speak poorly of men... ...but they still roll their eyes on Sunday afternoons when the TV runs but the mower don't. There are more Nancy's than I am used to at church, and I haven't men a single Cathy. Pine, Oak and Palm scatter the streets, tangled in moss...good lord! I will tell you more about Tillandsia at a later date...after I have wine... but as the bells ring upon her exit I feel obliged to tell you- she and the Oak have a complicated relationship... ... between you and me, I don't think he is the only one! But you didn't hear that from me!
