It’s late afternoon, and heat lies over Oxford with heavy, thick, impenetrable indolence. Earlier, girls in Daisy Dukes and baby doll dresses, armed with Estée Lauder bags and the confidence of youth, rambled along Courthouse Square like Confederate roses, shopping while their boyfriends — suitably attired in seersucker shorts, pastel polos, and loafers — lolled on benches, consulting iPhone itineraries and watches with enough dials to command a small flotilla.… Read more
If you had told me a decade ago that I would waste an entire Saturday driving around downtown Mobile, searching for a muffuletta, I would have politely directed you to take a dip in Lake Pontchartrain.… Read more
If I had known about the panther, I might have reconsidered.
It’s late afternoon, and the sun is already dropping low behind the tree line when I arrive in French Camp, Mississippi.… Read more
I felt happy the minute I saw the first rectangle of hand-painted plywood promising “Ruston peaches ahead” in Pass Christian, Mississippi.… Read more