Georgia, You Know That You've Been On My Mind...

       Before I left Asheville, North Carolina, Rachael took me to her favorite coffee bar, "The Dripolator." We sat on the bench outside the shoppe and chatted before she had to go to work.  I would love to spend more time in Asheville at some point to be able to soak up more of it's culture. The people in town seemed diverse and laid back and the surrounding mountains towered.

I checked my oil, filled my gas tank and I crossed the border into South Carolina. The Carolinas are truly beautiful. I learned that the Blue Ridge Mountains run for hundreds of miles along the ridge of the Appalachian Mountain Range from North Carolina to Virginia, from the Smokey Mountains Park to Shenandoah Park. I've been to the Blue Ridge Mountains years ago when I visited Greenville, South Carolina with my Aunt and cousins and will have to revisit those photos.

South Carolina smelled of wild woods, unless that was just the dump truck full of bark mulch in front of me. On the wings of flight, I saw a mother hawk teach her young'ins how to soar over the highway and into the trees and back out to find food. Food sounded like a good idea and I saw a sign for Chick-Fil-A, a fast food restaurant I had never been to but have only heard good things. I figured I'd give it a shot as fast-food is the cheapest way to eat, when crossing the country. My cousin, Chelsea and I  ate at Dairy Queens across the nation as the DQ in my neck of the woods only sells ice-cream. This time, at Chick-Fil-A, I tried Deluxe Chicken Sandwich with waffle fries. I'm no longer a virgin to their meals and it was a heavenly "first time." However, their lemonade was not nearly as good as the limonada in Juarez, Mexico.

Welcome to the cult.

I also saw my first Palm Trees of my travels in South Carolina.

I hugged the border of Georgia and tried to gaze through the clusters of tall, skinny trees that separated the highway. After an eight hour drive, I arrived in Bluffton, South Carolina at my friend Angela's gorgeous apartment that she has been building bookcases for in each room. I met her neighbor Mary, originally from Chicago, who let me in and left the key for me, since Angela was moving the rest of her belongings from New York City to the South. I fed and watered her blind bunny, Greta and later on that night gave her, her eye drops. Greta was an angel.

Deciding to take the drive into Georgia for a quick visit, I past Coosawhatchie, SC. A town? River? Both? Either way, I neared Savannah, Georgia where restaurants with names like "Chicken Lickin'" existed. In the tall grasses, the clicks and chitters of Southern bugs grew louder into the evening and I kept thinking it was my car making funny noises.

This is the Eugene Talmadge Bridge, that crosses over the Savannah River into Savannah, Georgia. The state line is midway across.

Savannah, Georgia!

It was so nice getting into Bluffton, South Carolina early to have the time to go explore Savannah, Georgia for an hour or so. I've waited my whole life to see Georgian trees. Tall, ancient looking, sturdy and covered with moss that hangs from each branch. A cluster of these trees make any town quaint.

        And Check out what you can actually buy in a store down South! Due to it's racial innuendoes, you don't find this in very many stores up North. However, it remains a classic Disney period piece, for sure!

         "Zippity-doo-dah! Zippity-day! My, oh my, what a wonderful day!"

       One quarter in the parking meter gave me almost a full hour to walk around downtown and head down to The Port Of Savannah Georgia. I saw City Hall, The Cotton Exchange, Savannah Tours and Russ Russ even made a friend along the way!

City Hall.

The Cotton Exchange.

Going down to the water.

Georgia Queen River Boat and the Eugene Talmadge Bridge in the background.

Along the Port Of Savannah.

        It has been a few years since I have seen Angela and boy, how I have missed her. I'm grateful that I was able to stay in her clean abode, relax a bit while listening to the new Indigo Girls album, Beauty Queen Sister, streaming online before it's release date of October 4th! I even contemplated a bath. I wish I could have stuck around a little longer to see Angela, though! I would have helped her move her large furniture, much like I had done for cousin Tom and Danielle right before I left Massachusetts but onward I must go.

Hey, Virginia!

        I packed my car with family and friends and they saw me off as I started my journey. Jersey bound. I'm taking the long way to California to see all the land I can and to meet up with life long friends along the way. I'm enriching and acclimating myself before I start my ten month long service commitment with AmeriCorps. A panda sat in the window and counted the trees that past. The sunset over Hartford, Connecticut shined it's erie light over the highway, tinting my skin a pinkish hue.

Capturing life goes the distance as mystique darkness crawled across New York City. I searched for Lady Liberty who stood tall watching over her inhabitants, looking towards the sky for a sign. Ten years later, yet I can't tell if she is filled with hope or filled with fear. Atop the George Washington Bridge, the Hudson River breathed it's muggy fish breath in my face but suddenly, Jersey strangely but welcomely smelled like some sort of a popcorn festival.

Steam billowed from tall buildings and airplanes took off from Newark, New Jersey over the city lights. In Linden, darkness had fallen. Heads rested on shoulders and hands were held during a stroll down a lover's lane. It's always a slow crawl through Roselle, New Jersey but I got to "Aunt" Pat's with no problems.

Rocky and Patch always crave extra love and it's always easy to spoil the "dog-people."

After a night's rest, "Aunt" Pat made me a Jersey treat: an egg, cheese and pork roll breakfast sandwich.

Now ready for day two, I sipped my Red Bull and smiled back at the phantom toll booth lady, bearing black skin, a nose piercing and dreadlocks. Cinnamon stains on the Jersey Turnpike. Delaware came and went with red flashes and outside Baltimore, Maryland, a disgruntle customer caused a commotion at the gas station. The silver springs in my car bounced to a happy country tune in the perfect 85 degree weather. Puffy clouds and blue sky hovered over Fairfax, Virginia. I drove and drove and drove. Who knew Virginia was so huge?! Orange sheet metal rolls up the front lawn and I pull off the highway in Marshal, Virginia to gas-up at the La Palmita station across the street from this Marshal Methodist Church.

Cattle to the left and sheep to the right. Farmlands. Black sheep, white sheep. I thought about what it feels like to stick out like a black sheep. I found them inspiring. More farmlands. I drove through Virginia and thought,  she's got a lot to offer… if you're a farmer.

The day turned to pre-dusk and I nodded a thought at a rest stop but I gained my second wind from the beauty of Shenandoah. Endless caverns. Acres and acres of nature.

I heard my first Southern accent at a Citgo that night and couldn't help but wonder what the Southland was like in the Autumntime. Soon enough. I got my third wind by the time I passed the exit for Virginia Tech and finally, after hours and hours, I crossed the State Line. I thought she'd never end, Virginia.

Tennessee however, brought rain. He brought lightening to my left and darkness to my right. I could smell wet hay and freshly cut grass. Darkened, starless skies feel like empty arms and white knuckles.

I drove into North Carolina in the dark, surrounded by tall, black shadows the whole way into Asheville. Mountains. Mountains I hadn't seen before. Mountains I still haven't seen… in daylight. It took me twelve hours that day to get to Rachael in Asheville, North Carolina but I made it and still had energy to catch up on our busy summers and learn Asheville has the best beer in the country.

Your Tree

Your Tree

A friend once told me that possibly, for every one person,

there is a tree.

A tree that grew with you,

not against you.

Existence throws tiny veiny leaves,

swirling and pushing and pulling.

But this one tree,

is you.

Burly and Brawny.

It grows with you,

by which she meant,

with every day, every triumph, or gain

-     a twig would sprout

and for every loss, or tribune

     -     a branch would evolve

for every discovery and rebirth

-     a leaf would bloom

and with the dealt of death,

that leaf would fall.

But with every grain of soil that stirs

and for every cloud of dust that forms and sticks to the bark, shows

youve done it.

Lived it.

Been there.

Limbs may grow old,

stuck frozen in time,

upon mid-descent.

Hurricane winds may be determined and fierce,

striping blossoms from vines,

splitting dried branches from the trunk,

dropping their heavy baggage onto our ground,

onto what ever lies below.

 But be strong,

Your Tree will stand.

She added,

Even though youll never see it, your tree is out there,

for someone else to notice and gain inspiration from.

Some people believe in guardian angels,

She believed in trees.

When she is gone…

Her tree will die.

When I am gone…

My tree will die.

But when we live…

We must be strong.

Like trees.

Colin Progen 2004/2011

          It always amazes me how long winter on the East Coast can last. The harsh cold surrounds the snow up until the bitter end. Then I spend all of April preparing for Spring (and my birthday) and once May comes, I’m ready for the beach. However, my Tiger Lilies come and my Tiger Lilies go. The summer sun flowers arrive but by the end of September, hang their heads in mourning for the farewell wave of Summer's weather. With just a snap of the fingers, Summer has drawn back it's heat, releasing our lungs from its grip and “flu season” bares its crooked teeth around the chilly New England corner. The weather begins to encourage sweatshirts, scarecrows emerge, retail stores set their Halloween candy planograms and pumpkins begin to sprout from their vines. Things start to become festive as the leaves slowly start to change color, from green into deep reds, oranges and yellows. Eventually gourds will be available at every florist, grocery store and market. It's the season of death, yet after hibernation, new life transpires.

           As September comes to an end and I start my four-wheeled-journey across our vast country, I say a quiet prayer, for no other month, to be as crazy as September 2011 has been. I'm a big ball of magnetic energy, like when you hold two magnets together. The push and the pull curves up and down, and jolts back to front. Like an invisible rubber dodgeball that is pulsing in midair. I can push people away and I can draw people close. Its seems that people always come into our lives, or leave our presence at the strangest time. I've always believed everything happens for a reason, though that belief has been most recently challenged. I know that I can't lose my faith and I realize, I couldn't be happier that I have reconciled differences this season. I hung my own head in mourning for the grand exit and the memories of the ones I won't be lucky enough to see again but welcomed the ones still here, who mean the most.

          I love my family, my cousins are my siblings and I am grateful for everyone who still stands as tall as their trees. Life works in strange ways and I have no idea what the next year has in store for me. I will continue to learn the lessons that life offers and I will grow, much like my tree, which is a Buckeye; more specific to New England, A Horse Chestnut Tree.

         With dried cheeks and contained energy, I'm hitting the road now. First stop, New Jersey. See ya'll there!