Magic in Georgia

I would like to sit in Kevin Barry's on River Street in Savannah. I would like to sip a Guinness and walk out in the cool evening air. I would like to drive out to Tybee and watch the tide crash on the sands of the beach. Taste the sea in a platter of oysters with cocktail sauce and tabasco with a cold beer. I want to get in my car and drive back to central Georgia and see the sun go down over the forests south of Macon, watch the sun glint on the Ocmulgee as it passes past the Indian mounds south of town. I want to drive west and watch the fishes in the Chattahoochee as she flows between Columbus and Phenix City. I would really like to watch the sun go down over the blue mountains that lie to the west and below Brasstown Bald, like we did a week ago with our friends. I would like to see another black bear, scampering to the cover of the woods. This time I want to get to Ravencliff Falls and Duke's Creek Falls, rather than just close by. I might even want to hang over the pond at the bottom of the falls on the swing. It wouldn't be bad to go to Barbara Jeans and eat some scallops with bacon and green onions and white wine. Then stroll down the walk from the pier to the lighthouse on St. Simons. And watch the sun go down over the marshes west of Jekyll Island. With a glass of red wine in hand, my love's hand in the other.

To step lightly along the southern side of the Chestatee and watch the sunlight playing on the rocks and the flow of the water, as I feel my father's presence in the touch of a cool breeze passing downriver from the bridge where the DNR drops trout fingerlings for some fisherman to catch. How lucky.