There was a land of Cavaliers and Cotton Fields called the Old South… Here...– Gone With The Wind
Lovely is as Lovely does & she is Lovely. →
The Yellow Roses~
A summer walk, the delicate moment of beauty is caught, time is fleeting but I stop and smell the roses…. Images by From Me To You
Rule number one: Always stick around for one more drink. That’s when things...– John Berendt, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil
To Kill a Mockingbird
“Maycomb was an old town, but it was a tired old town when I first knew it. In rainy weather the streets turned to red slop; grass grew on the sidewalks, the courthouse sagged in the square. Somehow it was hotter then: a black dog suffered on a summers day; bony mules hitched to Hoover carts flicked flies in the sweltering shade of the live oaks on the square. Men’s stiff collars...
Southern Women are Fickle
Scarlett: Oh, Rhett! Please, don't go! You can't leave me! Please! I'll never forgive you!
Rhett Butler: I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'll never understand or forgive myself. And if a bullet gets me, so help me, I'll laugh at myself for being an idiot. There's one thing I do know... and that is that I love you, Scarlett. In spite of you and me and the whole silly world going to pieces around us, I love you. Because we're alike. Bad lots, both of us. Selfish and shrewd. But able to look things in the eyes as we call them by their right names.
Scarlett: Don't hold me like that!
Rhett Butler: Scarlett! Look at me! I've loved you more than I've ever loved any woman and I've waited for you longer than I've ever waited for any woman.
Scarlett: Let me alone!
Rhett Butler: Here's a soldier of the South who loves you, Scarlett. Wants to feel your arms around him, wants to carry the memory of your kisses into battle with him. Never mind about loving me, you're a woman sending a soldier to his death with a beautiful memory. Scarlett! Kiss me! Kiss me... once...
The Old South
A day in Savannah. I get in my car, and see what passes me by… I park and walk along the street to a cafe I think of as another home I stop to read, to watch, to listen I walk again and feel the sun… and smell the baker’s freshly made desserts. I see what catches my eye… and taste something warm. The day is almost through and I am tired. I drive…...
We’re after that same rainbow’s end, waitin’ ’round the bend. My huckleberry...– Johnny Mercer
annstreetstudio asked: Darlin, what is Southern Afternoon?