Breath our scents, walk our landscape, hear our melodic dialects, delight in our savory morsels, touch each rich texture, and the southern essence remains a mystery. The ethereal south, unfathomable to the five senses, lives in the heart. If you believe in magic, and can survive the devastating passions of an open heart, just possibly, you stand a chance of living a moment as a southerner. Most people aren't brave enough to be southerners, even the ones that are.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007


Yes, it's Christmas in Dixie, but it seems, no matter what, the mood just hasn't struck me. I don't have that Christmas sparkle, that tingle, or Christmasy feeling. I don't detect it in many places either. Maybe its the weather. It's been too warm here for too long. Maybe its because there seems to be more tension in the world than normal. Maybe everyone is afraid that the big rubber-band is about to pop.

I don't know. It's Christmas. Well, almost. There's still time for hope, and I guess that's part of what Christmas is about. Hope.

3 comments:

i beati said...

maybe you'll find it Christmas Eve in church . I know I will .....

Granny Sue said...

Go outside and look at the moon and Mars. The beauty of it is astounding.

With a son in Iraq and another in Germany, I still find joy in the season. I wish you the same.

Beneath the Carolina Moon said...

I caught the Moon and Mars, then pondered over the wonder of what the celebration started over.