The White Chair, St. Simons Island, Georgia, July 2008, all photos © 2008-2009 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
white chair on hard sand
pale footprints leading nowhere
dreaming of Georgia
Post Script: I had a dream about Georgia last night, swimming with the Ancestors. It reminded me of this beach at St. Simons where Liz, Mom, and I hung out for a few hours last July. The sand is so hard and compact, you can easily ride a bicycle. It was hotter than any Minnesotan can ever imagine. The breezes off the Atlantic Ocean offered quiet relief.
Liz found the most beautiful living shell; a rainbow appeared. We went back to the motel where one of Mom’s cousins waited. She had driven to St. Simons to meet us. They had not seen each other in years. There in the motel lobby, we spread out a giant paper copy of the family tree. Nicholas smiled down.
-posted on red Ravine, Thursday, March 26th, 2009
-related to posts: haiku for the live oak, St. Simons Island haiku, black-eyed susan haiku, Georgia’s Scottish Highlanders (On Tartan & Targe), haiku 2 (one-a-day)
QM, you achieved a trifecta today. Your photo, haiku and post script are all perfectly beautiful.
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breathepeace, thanks. I like the word “trifecta.” You don’t hear that word much — Trifecta. I wonder if you are a betting woman. 8)
Last night at dinner, we were talking about words we liked to say, words that rolled off the tongue. One of them was on the menu — “succotash.” It’s fun to say — succotash.
The main part of succotash is always corn, with other vegetables thrown in. But in the South, succotash is usually corn and lima beans (hmmmm, I LOVE lima beans), with a big blob of butter (in the old days, lard) on top. HMMMM.
I think succotash became a popular way of making vegetables in the Great Depression when they wanted nothing to go to waste. I guess with this recession, it’s fitting we’d see it on the menu last night.
A lot of people don’t like lima beans. Liz isn’t big on them or peas. But she buys and eats them for me. 8)
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There’s an opening in the sky in the upper left of your stunning photo, QM. Hope that white chair has a seat belt, or the one you’re sitting in does. Me thinks the muse is on her way not only to inspire you to write more haiku (and teach you that lima beans are, along with beets, vegetables from hell) but also more posts like this that keep us all aiming for that opening in the big, blue sky.
Fly, sister, fly.
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Flan, thank you. I didn’t even notice that opening in the sky until you pointed it out. I could fly right through it (and I probably did last night in that dream). I sure hope that white chair has a seatbelt, too — I get carsick, airsick, you-name-it sick if I get too sloshed around. 8)
What is it with people and lima beans? I think they are one of the best tasting vegetables ever. I wonder if it’s an acquired taste? Beets, too, I absolutely love them. But they have to be pickled. There is nothing like home-canned pickled beets. Off to eat lunch now. 8)
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QM, first off, the photo & haiku are both beautiful & give me a feeling of wanting to be there in that moment.
Now, succotash, a frozen staple for J & me. Simply corn & baby lima beans.Tonight, my first attempt at baked chicken pot pie with a crescent roll topping. I made up my own recipe, so time will tell…
Your dream made me smile. I wish all of my dreams could be like that. D
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Let’s make that a “quadfecta” today, because I love lima beans!
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Nice QM!
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That is a beach to walk forever! Gorgeous shot! and… perfect haiku. G
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diddy, that baked chicken pot pie with crescent roll topping sounds great. How did it come out? I’ve been craving your London Broil crock pot stew again. We might have to get the ingredients for it this week. Hmmm. I’m hungry.
breathepeace, YEAH!, another lima bean fan! 8)
Thanks, mimbresman and G. I wish we had had more time at the St. Simons beach. I could have stayed there for about a week and just hung out at the beach. We packed way too much into that last trip to Georgia. I think the next time we might just hang in one area. We’ll see what happens.
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[…] have returned to the South. Each photo conjures the heat, humidity, live oaks, Gold Coast breezes, white packed sand, and the pilgrimage to Flannery O’Connor’s childhood […]
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