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.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Your Basic Relic


I took this pic out the passenger window from the driver's seat. Yeah, a few horns blew and stuff. It's a pretty typical snowball bush, but I wanted a pic. There used to be a lot of these in gardens of the south. Now, because they get rather large, you don't see as many folks keeping them in their yards and gardens. Sooner or later, everything changes, even here beneath the Carolina moon. Even with pieces of the past still around, the south is not the old south. It's the deep south; no kidding! But, its not the old south, hasn't been since, and never will be again. Don't come here expecting to find it, except for relics, like this snowball bush.


Posted by Dread, who although he admires the snowball bush, doesn't really want one in his garden either.

3 comments:

Sandy Kessler said...

why not??

Beneath the Carolina Moon said...

Because it's big and my garden is little, small, dinky even. But aren't they beautiful?

Beneath the Carolina Moon said...

Because it's big and my garden is little, small, dinky even. But aren't they beautiful?