Ever the optimists, we decided to get out of the car and take a look around the grounds anyway. Back porch. Check. Old barn. Check. Chicken coop. Check. As we were walking back to the car, we hear the most pitiful meow ever heard to man's ears. Across the field comes running this black, gray, and white cat. Abby is the cat lover of the group, which meant of course that the mangy cat came straight to me. After careful consideration and intelligent reflection, we decided the cat housed the soul of someone I knew previously who was attempting to make contact with me. We christened him Luther...then noticed he was a she and rechristened her Lutherena. So, if you're ever in Midway at the Seabrook village, stop by the visitor's center and meet Lutherena. She's a dear old friend of mine...just haven't figured out which one.
From there we headed to Fort Morris and the old town of Sunbury, GA. Back in the day it rivaled Savannah's docks and imports, and now there is no evidence that a town as big as it was even existed. Which includes the fort. We pulled up and it was literally us and Chuck the talkative forest ranger who was running the office. I was terrified for our well-being. Why? Because we're out in the middle of East Jesus Nowhere with no cell phone signal, and we fit the description of all those twits in scary movies who are the first to die at the hands of the serial killer. But I digress...As I said, there are no buildings, no posts, no nothing (a common saying the in South) to even show this fort existed. So, Hot-air Chuck hands us a map, and we begin our journey from marker of nothing to marker of more nothing. If you have don't have an imagination don't even bother going. But, they did have a lovely nature trail that we went down...and got lost. SARABBY = getting lost on a cleared path.
Once we made our way back to the car, we then headed off for another adventure....but had to take a detour back to see Lutherena after we saw a small colony of ticks crawling on Abby's pants. Lutherena was just as hospitable as ever, and you know you're in the South when even the stray cats are hospitable. De-ticked and vowing an oath to Lutherena that we would one day return and take her away from her unhappy home, we left and found another lovely brown road sign indicating something of historic value. Forgive me, but I can't remember the name of the stupid trail. It's a lovely wooden path of death that leads you blindly into an overgrown marsh. I took the liberty of taking a picture of the welcome sign posted before you begin the trail:
What in the name of Uncle Jonathan's corncob pipe have I gotten myself into?? It's my worst nightmare to be eaten by an alligator!! That stuff's happened, too! Just last year a little old lady at one of the retirement homes in Savannah was attacked by an alligator. But, I braved down the path and am happy to report that we avoided all snakes, were wary of the poison ivy, and did not offer ourselves as alligator appetizers.
This weekend we'll be heading to Hunting Island, South Carolina to hit the trails up there. I'm looking forward to it, but I can't help to be skeptical that it won't be able to hold a candle to this last field trip. It isn't every day you meet a cat housing the soul of a former acquaintance, get to be in your own horror movie, visit an imaginary fort, get lost on a marked trail, and house the set of Big Brother for ticks. But, in the deep South all things are possible. *cue banjo music*
http://gastateparks.org/info/ftmorris/
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