Perpetual.

A line from one of the many hundred of treaties the US government signed with one of the many Native American nations that were here before the USA was established.

The hatchet shall be forever buried, and the peace given by the United States, and friendship re-established between the said states on the one part, and all the Cherokees on the other, shall be universal; and the contracting parties shall use their utmost endeavors to maintain the peace given as aforesaid, and friendship re-established.

I am reminded that the only thing that comes anywhere near "perpetual" is the land. And even that is infinitely malleable and will, in its own good time, change.

In 2004 I seemed to recall some things that were truthful to me in youth and which I had forgotten. And for reasons that are no mystery to me, I returned to those places in which I find a measure of peace in solitude.

Almost everything from Men are lies. Nothing from Nature is untrue. Here, then, are my journeys around what was mainly once land of the Cherokee Nation.

2004: My return to outdoor activities.

Live Oaks & Southern Magnolias

I don't really miss the low country where I was born and where I lived off and on over the years. The lay of the land doesn't appeal to me, and the weather is pretty much as hideous as it gets (in my experience). The soil is a fine mixture of sand and filth, the flatness of the terrain frustrates me in a way that's hard to describe, and the humidity and vast swarms of angry, biting insects make me wonder why people want to retire there.

However, one thing that I do enjoy about the coastal plains of the deep South are the live oaks and southern magnolias. If there's a more striking and picturesque thing than a maritime southern tree, I've yet to encounter it. Just about every old live oak seems to be in some state of dramatic pose--like a practiced actor vying for maximum praise and attention. And the magnolias do a years-long pirouette as they do what they can to survive the storms.

And the older examples of those species are just fun to ponder. The twists and turns of the vast, reaching branches. The moss covered leaves rattling in the wind. The enormous trunks coated in fine moss and emerald ferns. Sometimes it's worth a trip down there just to take in a live oak or two.


One can't take a proper photograph of an old live oak. The crazed geometry of them are just too complicated to compose in a single closeup.

A longer range view of this live oak.

When I was a kid I always liked magnolia trees for the simple reason that they're so darned easy to climb!