Every March in Iberia Parish there is a Festival of the Live Oaks that celebrates their beauty. It has inspired many authors to write stories about how deep their roots run.
Recently while driving under the canopy of the live oaks that line the main street, I noticed a for sale sign next to the Teche Motel.
I believe in the 1950’s era places like this were called Tourist Cabins. I noticed the old sign advertising their name. It was worn out with its neon lights half lit. I wondered if James Lee Burke slept here and maybe wrote a couple of chapters of the Dave Robicheaux novels. I read somewhere that great story tellers research the areas they write about. So, it could be possible that Mr. Burke knocked on the office door early one morning and the night clerk opening the hatch said what do you want, in her best aggravated tone. I drove away laughing but I really do wake up way too early.
The Ocean Springs Porch
This little front porch was magical. The scent of magnolias drifted on the breeze and the twist and turns of the old oak made me feel right at home. Being invited to spend a long weekend in the hometown of Walter Anderson, the celebrated artist of Ocean Springs, well no one would say no to that. So three women and one husband planned a getaway each having their own agendas. Cousins #1 wanted to see the golden sunset over the white sand beaches, Cousin #2 wanted to take early morning drives to watch the gulf fisherman heading out to Biloxi Bay, Cousin #3, the true artist among us, wanted to take in the sights of Andersons water colors throughout the museum, and the laughing husband wanted to eat Southern style Catfish at Aunt Jennys. At the perfect end of each day we gathered on the porch and shared our memories, sipped a couple of coctails, and let our laughter fill the oaks. Au revoir till our next adventure.
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