April Photo Collection: Tripping Through The South

I recently went on a stellar road trip through the South. Besides slaking my general thirst for travel, it allowed me to flirt with my ever-growing love of the South. When I was a kid, I moved from D.C. to Northern Virginia. When friends would tease me about the fact that I was now Southern, I would grow very grave and maudlin. "I am NOT A Southerner," I'd say. As if being Southern were akin to having shingles. I don't know what that was about; now, I like the South a lot. I like that it has retained so much local flavor and cultural heritage. I like that people say hello to strangers instead of assuming they want to mug you.

Here are some trip highlights, photo montage style.

The view over our first morning's coffee in Atlanta, Georgia.

Spanish moss in one of Savannah, Georgia's many squares. I love this stuff!

A fantastically crowded second-hand bookstore in Savannah. Hello, lover. 

Tori and I discovering sweet tea vodka in Charleston, SC (and looking a little bit devilish)

Outside our B&B in Charleston. The whole city smelled like this Confederate jasmine, which was, in a word, glorious.

Sitting in our garden patio on our second morning in Charleston. 

Our boat ride through the amazing Cypress Gardens, SC. For five bucks you get to paddle yourself around a stunning swamp and wave to the alligators!

This swampy smelled quite nice. The water's black because of all the tanins, but when you stuck your hand in it, it was actually quite clear. 

Something happens to me when I am behind my camera. I decide that whatever I'm  shooting isn't actually a threat to me. So despite Tori's protests about toothy grins and that whole "don't bait the gators" rule, I convinced her to paddle up to it. We started out this close...

...and ended up this close. Actually, this is as close as we got before I dropped my camera and we ran into its log. Now I know what an angry, hissing gator looks like. Whoops.

America and Awesome Things

I've just moved back to America after a very, very long absence. I'm still getting used to being here... because the US of A is a little overwhelming. 

No offense, homeland; you know I love you. I'm just saying that living in Australia has illuminated some of your quirks. Why do we talk so loudly on the street? Why are we so obsessed with the weather, and what's with all the parking meters? It's not that these are bad things (although, dear Mother Country, there are moments when I want to punch you). I just don't feel like a part of the tapestry yet. It's a strange and discomfiting experience to find that 'home' doesn't feel like it did when you left it.

So I took myself for a walk through lovely Annapolis, Maryland and was reminded of a book my friend Lyndsey put me onto called The Book of Awesome. I haven't read it yet, but I'm subscribed to the website and enjoy the weekly emails immensely. The book originated from a blog chronicling 1,000 small, everyday things the writer thought were awesome. Things like running hugs; finding money in the pocket of pants you haven't worn in a while; finding your lost keys in the very first place you look. These emails always make me laugh because the writing is smart and funny, and because they remind me how many awesome things in life there are to celebrate. Here are some of mine from Annapolis. 

The hugely satisfying CRUNCH of shriveled fall leaves underfoot.

Going into a shop on a whim and finding exactly what you didn't know you were looking for. (A turn-of-the-century hessonite ring, in case you're wondering.) 

Rediscovering a place you used to know and having it feel like it's the first time.

A stranger stopping to tell you how beautiful your photo's going to be, just because they feel like it.

Better Late Than Never

So I heard about something pretty funny last night at dinner. I'm not much of a YouTube girl, so I'm always hearing about gems like this way late. But I thought I'd post it anyway in case I'm not really the last person in the world to hear about it. Also: as I watched this ad, all I could think about was the fact that it's like an autobiography of my brother. I'm not sure how I feel about this.