New Orleans is a siren, a temptress who lulls unsuspecting innocents into her arms. She infects her unwitting visitors with a fever from which there is no cure. Forevermore they love her and must return again and again and again. I am one of those people who is so enamored with the Big Easy that I often find myself dreaming of walking the familiar haunts. When I have been gone too long I feel a longing and ultimately I find my way back to her. I revel in the sights, the sounds, the feast of the senses until I am satiated enough to return to my normal routines but the lovely NOLA is never far from my thoughts. She knows as I do that I will never resist her call. I will come back to enjoy her many charms.
It was love at first sight for me forty seven years ago when Mike and I spent our honeymoon in New Orleans. I have told my children of the lovely secrets of the city and they in turn have fallen under its spell. The grandchildren that I have brought to visit understand her charms. As William Faulkner once said, “There are three cities in the United States, New York, San Francisco, and New Orleans. Everything else is Cleveland.” Like Faulkner and Tennessee Williams and Ernest Hemingway I feel the pulse of life in this city as in few others. The food, the architecture, the music, and mostly the people intrigue me. Sitting on a bench simply observing the play of humanity around me is entertainment in and of itself. Continue reading “Uncle Sam”
The northeast corner of Indiana is home to a large number of Amish families. In towns like Nappanee and Shipshawana these quiet and humble people live in simple ways that are reminiscent of times past. Yesterday Mike and I decided to follow the Heritage Trail that loops through the land where they work and worship. It was a memorable experience.
This morning we are heading to Indiana Amish country in the far north of the state on the border with Michigan. In planning the trip I had thought that our stay in Lafayette/West Lafayette would be focused only on the Purdue experience. Since Andrew had to return to his studies in earnest yesterday Mike and I did a bit of exploring on our own and learned that we had indeed been staying in a more interesting place than I had thought. Our campground was located in Prophetstown State Park, a name which captured my curiosity. Before leaving I finally learned what its significance was all about.
