This Old Tree of Mine; a Taste of Louisiana

Another visit to the land of the ghost trees and I am haunted by their beauty.

Spanish moss waves carelessly in the wind, at dusk it whispers of derelict sails of long sunken pirate ships.

In Louisiana it sings the song of the South, of all the grandeur of plantations lost and enslaved men freed, of battles won and lost to both Nature and the Tribes of Man.

Surviving only on air and water these beautiful strands of white and mint green resemble gaudy mardi gras beads, man’s best attempt at reproduction.

I took as much as I could before I left, not believing I will never return, but just in case.

They are a fine addition to this Old Tree of Mine, the birds are already playing with it, looking for nesting material I suppose, and if it doesn’t survive it will be just as beautiful in death as it was in life, either way, if I never go back, I brought the heart of it with me.


One Response to “This Old Tree of Mine; a Taste of Louisiana”

  1. you are an old soul from the land of my birth… it calls you.

    answer the call.

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