Bitter Sneeze Weed and Baby Snapdragons

Driving through Georgia and the Carolinas is driving through Impressionist paintings. Red and pink and burgundy poppies and cosmos dot the streaks of green grass and blurs of goldenrod and yellow crownbeard. And you fly by at such speeds that they blend together, muddled colors on Indian paintbrushes. Blue sailors adrift in seas of swamp milkweed. I love that North Carolina's Department of Transportation has an actual program for growing wildflowers. That means that someone, probably several someones, are being paid to beautify the highways. What'dya think of that New Orleans? Suddenly the squalor at City Park - the chicken bones, Popeye's cups, limp condoms stowed beside baby ducks nests and bayou reeds - doesn't seem so idyllic. Funny how that works.

But still I miss you. Smelly feet and all.