Large, green palm leaves that are low to the ground stand in stark contrast to the tall brown trees around them, and the result is a gorgeous scenery that I’ve never had the chance to observe in person before.
What the rocking chairs lack in colour, they make up for in comfort. And sitting here on the porch of the Atchafalaya Welcome Center, they seem to beckon you to sit down and forget your worries for a while. As we come into the center, two smiling ladies give us that friendly southern greeting, “Welcome, how y’all doing?” and we feel welcome indeed.
The rain shows no sign of letting up, so we decide on a library visit.
After visiting the Naval Aviation Museum, we get on the road towards the library, so I can have some time to work. On route, Dan sees a sign for Perdido Kids’ Park, and he decides to make the turn. We’re happy we did.
The place is so big, I’m not entirely sure I know how to find the way out—or how to reunite with my kids and husband after a trip to the washroom. But I just follow the children’s squeals, and I find them again.
The canons stand ominously on the brick walls of the fort, a reminder of the ugliness of human nature. The canons were for protection, yet stand on walls of brick built by those whose protection and rights were nonexistent.
After our disappointing experience in New Jersey, I’m weary when Dan shows me a picture of a nice campground in Florida. It looks nice on the screen, but I have an inkling it won’t be as nice in person. Dan seems really excited about the place, so I don’t say anything.