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1:39:00 AM CDT
Spontaneity: Lesson III
(Friday evening, 4/08/05...you just might find, you get what you need)
From Natchez, we headed on to what would be our last stop. We knew we'd eventually get onto I-10, which runs along the Gulf Coast from Texas to Florida. How was the question. We headed into swampland. Cross the border from Mississippi into Lousiana and within minutes, you know something is different. Spanish moss isn't the only thing hanging from the trees. Wisteria grows as wild in Lousiana as kudzu does in Tennessee. The trees were so different from those I'd seen farther north that I'd wished I'd had an Audubon guide to foliage with me. I know I saw some of the tallest dogwoods I've ever seen. Live oaks with their vast, low swooping branches have to be among the most beautiful trees on earth. Each is a sculpture in its own right. The azaleas, which are just starting to bud here at home, are in rich, full blossom there. The land goes swampy quickly, and the air changes with it, with a distinctive, ripe, but not unpleasant smell of fresh and stale water mixing, the naturally close habitat of animals and natural decomposition. C. loved seeing houses on stilts in the middle of what seemed to be lakes and wondered how people travelled out of the swamp. The idea of regular, daily travel by boat had never occured to her. She loved crossing all the bridges and hated the small industrial towns that looked so different but felt so much like the small town we had left behind.
Our next little adventure was getting through Baton Rouge during rush hour in a car that wanted to overheat. Traffic kept coming to a standstill. We turned the heat on high, and it barely kept the temp light out of the red zone. We get on a bridge in the center lane, and traffic is at a dead stop. I look over and tell her to say her prayers that the car makes it through okay. We pop into the red a couple of times, but never long enough to where I fear I'll be the one who's stopping traffic. Every car that's passing us seems to have a rosary hanging from its rearview mirror. One of my best friends gave me one several years ago, and I always have it in my purse. I told her to put on the rearview and keep praying. All I can say is God/dess does answer prayers, because the engine temp went down to no more than slightly elevated. The rosary stayed up for the rest of the trip.
After Baton Rouge, one more stop, and when we pulled into town, despite heavy traffic, there were two distinct smells, salt water and spices. Nous sommes arrive'! New Orleans, the Big Easy, and the girl child made the choice. I'd imagined a leisurely weekend on the beach, but this is where we landed, and I loved it.
We have no hotel reservations. My atlas doesn't have a city map of New Orleans. I take a wrong turn and end up in Gretna. We head back to town, end up on Carrolton, ask for directions, screw them up and take the most glorious drive through town into the Garden District, oohing over the homes, wondering just why Mardi Gras beads are hanging from trees.
C. was wondering if she'd be able to get into a college like Tulane or Loyola someday. My response -- You're smart enough and talented enough. The rest is up to how bad you want it and are willing to work for it. You can do anything if you really set your mind to it. Her reply -- I've heard it before, Mom. Now, let's get real.
Besides us both needing a break, this was one of the reasons why I wanted to take this trip with her. I wanted her to really see that there was more to the world than this tiny bit we live in, that she doesn't have to limit herself to what she has already experienced. If she's got the guts to imagine it as a real possibility and really put herself into it, she can do anything she wants to. I want her to have the sense of freedom to imagine life outside the coloring lines. Sometimes that means just taking off.
After a lot more wrong turns we check into one of the few hotels which still has a room available. Not having planned the trip, we didn't know that this weekend was the French Quarter Festival (NOLA.com: French Quarter Festival).
Laissez les bons temps roulez!
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Thank you for "taking us along" on your journey. It sounds like you and your daughter had a wonderful time together. It sounds like it was so much fun!
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Oh Baby, Let the good times roll! I'll be singing this song all day! Ann
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Let the good times roll, indeed!
You done good with this trip, Cynthia. I think it will be an experience you will both remember for a long time. And your writing just blossoms when you have new places and experiences to chronicle. I've never been to the south, and I've always wanted to go. Should have gone down when we still lived in Illinois. Now, it's geograpically the most distant part of the country from where I live. Probably won't be visiting any time soon :( But through your descriptions, I almost feel like I was there. Lisa :-] -
Oh, I am, loving this!
4/11/05 5:19 PM