“Am I Jesus?” Evelyn asked, her cantaloupe-sized melon poking out from a wooden cutout. It was the third hole she’d posed in —the first being a busty Viking woman, followed by a classic head-and-hand stockade.“No, you’re the Mona Lisa,” I told her, mildly surprised at her somewhat close guess despite our lack of religious leanings.Continue reading “A Faire to Remember”
Tag Archives: Georgia
Song of the South
Half a country away, I know woodpeckers to sound like mini jackhammering construction-workers. Then nabbing their grub they fly on, living an almost always quiet kind of presence. Here in the rib of Georgia, Woody approaches life differently. Post-head smacking he breathes out a ceaseless heavy-chested scream, like he’s scared for his life and runningContinue reading “Song of the South”
Going On 40 