Turns out our word bayou is from a Frenchified Native American word. Most I’ve seen are like this—dredged and channelized.
Photographically, the high point was a morning walk in a wildlife preserve also known as a swamp. Lots of Spanish moss but no Spanish.
The trail took us back to open water—a lake? This bird kept its distance yet still was curious about us. Snowy egret.
Closer was this little blue heron, busy hunting and mostly ignoring us.
Back on the road we drove through an area with lots of ship-building, which appeared to be roadside but was really in nearby channels.
Later we got into a cane-growing zone. It is harvest season and a few guys and many machines were active. Lots of trailers, full and empty, moved the chopped plant material to…to…I assume presses?
Many bridges, a few high enough for ships to pass.
Much later we were in a traffic jam (no alternative routes), and the Guru made a new friend. Kinda.
And another spectacular sunset. Life is darned good. We sleep in Texas tonight. [Those two sentences not logically connected.]
Coming in from the east, we began our New Orleans wander in the Lower Ninth Ward. It’s mostly still abandoned with some pockets of trash remaining.
The Claiborne Avenue bridge crosses the flood control levees and a shipping canal, hence the section that will rise out of the way.
Downtown, finally. River. Riverboat.
Statue honoring emigrants to New Orleans. I might have chosen “immigrants.”
Jackson Square, with statue in the middle. [We won’t discuss which Jackson.] Cathedral named after Louis IX of France, the only French King who is a saint, so the name is Cathedral-Basilica of Saint Louis, King of France. Seems strange to have saint and king linked. So New Orleans.
New Orleans means beignets and café au lait at Café du Monde. Yes, the business has changed greatly since I first came here in 1967, but it’s still beignets and café au lait at Café du Monde.
New Orleans means street cars.
New Orleans means the maid of Orleans…here Joan is gilded.
New Orleans means upstairs balconies and architectural detail.
Sometimes the balconies are double-tiered.
Down at the market we found this gigantic bow, so large it takes multiple loops of chain to hold it.
Then we shifted neighborhoods and walked past legendary Tipitina’s. I was surprised to read it opened in 1977; I thought it was older. Must be the archaeologist in me.
Random building in the Touro quarter. It is quieter and very residential compared to the French quarter.
And, as my dear friend KW sometimes writes, that is all. 😀
We joined the highway hoards returning to their nests after holiday adventures (eating, shopping, hopefully laughing), and found these junque-laden Joads on the move. The retired schoolbus was packed and the maroon crossover(?) seemed the spriteliest vehicle of the bunch by far.
Note in this snap and the previous one that the traffic was heavier in the other direction. For something like 50 miles of interstate it must have averaged about 30mph. We only had momentary slow-downs in comparison. Don’t know the temporary migration patterns that would produce this differential.
We stopped in Pascagoula to stretch our legs at a park across from this pier. I surmise that all had been rebuilt after Katrina (now way back) in 2005.
The park had a shallow wading pool with misters that could have been no more than ankle deep on a toddler when activated. Off to the side was a sign: “Please rub top of bollard to activate.” The Guru looked at it and said, “You first.”
We looked for a seafood place along the Gulf. The first choice was up on super tall pillars with a great view, but closed for cleanup (not cleaning). Ooops. But it was next to a marina full of working boats with nets not crab/lobster pots, which of course was very interesting.
We continued along the shore and found this place, not up on pillars, but still with a fine view of the water from the dining room.
These nifty new phones/cameras are wonderful. These are the colors of the sunset. Ignore the insect blotches, plz.
Deciding that it’d be wiser to get a needed car wash before we got to the desert, we went through the Wall of Foam (blue sign), and got the worst of the accumulated gunk (nastiness of oak residue was particularly worrisome on the hood) removed.
There wasn’t any other traffic on the old US highway we took instead of the interstate parallel to the shore, and the Guru stopped so I could nudge the phone/camera into the land of computational photography. It was darned dark out, but it captured the bridge superstructure as well as a few stars in the night sky. Oh, boy, we’ll have fun experimenting this whole trip!
I finally found the upstairs maid (hahaha) and got her busy. Three loads of laundry and lots of miscellany. Still: odds and ends remain for tomorrow morning.
I think of this as both clapboard and lap siding. Turns out both terms are used. Here, in the yew-ess of ay, anyway.
Sunny and warm for my walk. Found this blue flag convention, but not the blue flags of spring. Sewer lines? Buried cable? A mystery.
We had a miscellaneous errand over toward downtown, so we strolled around that area. This is the view of downtown from Jackson Street bridge. You many have seen it in a movie or in advertising art.
Turns out the libraries are closed for the holiday, so we used the book drop. Our regular branch is closed for renovations, so we used a different branch, over by the MLK center. [TMI, pretty sure.]
One of my favorite public art pieces of all time. MLK stating that he has a dream, I’m guessing.
People live around here now, in some rather expensive new apartments and not in the crack-infested public housing that was here.
Nice reflection in window of business undergoing renovation…sign is for an axe-throwing business. Have fun, it states in multiple ways.
Pansy (etc.) triangle by the MLK center. Your federal dollars at work. National Park Service property.
We discovered that we didn’t know that the Grady HIGH SCHOOL football team has a practice field. More tax dollars at work.
The parallel I’m suggesting is that these are the dessicating seedheads of our fennel. They succeed the plant’s main event—the green phase.
Today, we followed our main event—Wednesday early T-day dinner—with lovely, wonderful, tasty left-overs.
Of course, some people might argue that left-over day is its own version of a main event—sooo, sooo easy!
My dad, the Botanist, called these, as I recall, Georgia bugs, meaning he saw them here and did not associate them with the Midwest. This one hung around the back door this afternoon, but was not admitted to our early T-giving. We had a good harvest this year, albeit from assorted grocery stores.
Raw materials are in place…
…and some have been prepped. Or partly prepped.
Lots of leaves on the ground…
and in the trees, still.
Pretty sure: this is not a proper haiku syllable count.
Out buying our T-giving bird, we found decorations for the succeeding standard US holiday. I pondered sitting and waiting for the holly-jolly holly-day, but I’ve got a meal to prep. For THIS week.
Apologies for the grumpiness, but how many people in a GROCERY store are buying for Xmas????
On the other hand, the trees, wreaths, and other greenery out front of the store smelled piney-lovely.