Magnolia Mound Plantation is a well-preserved historical landmark that harbors an eerie silence as you transcend into another century. Unlike other plantations I’ve visited, this particular adventure down history’s memory lane left me feeling low. Perhaps with everything happening in the country regarding racial division, seeing a plantation only reminded me of how far (and not so far) we’ve come.
I love the hike across the wide-open spaces as you tour one home to another. The French architecture made the homes appear romantic ad inviting. I imagined myself opening large French doors to a gorgeous two-story house with a wrap-around porch. I am floating on cloud imagination until I gaze at the slave cabin and realize the reality behind this plantation’s beauty. The crooked, uncut wood boards used as doors struggled to operate o their hinges. There are no fancy locks. Inside was an old school locking system where a board is placed in two hooks to keep the doors from swinging open. Inside the cabin is nothing more than a studio apartment. The bed mattress looked stuffed with toilet tissue. It caved heavily in the center. I could only imagine the back issues resulting from such a bed. Iside the homeowner’s home, the mattress is high and fluffy, resting on a proper frame for support. The rooms where separated. No issues with soot and ash from a fireplace. The two buildings symbolized the inequality of races during those times. It reminds a tourist of the same economic and racial divide of today.
Don’t get me wrong, the plantation is a dream. The landscape is nicely kept, the grass a bright and healthy shade of green. The vegetable garden is filled fence post to fence post with fruits, vegetables, and herbs. The garden is my favorite. I am always fascinated by Mother Nature and watching mere seeds grow into fruitful products. The plantation provided a very decent lesson in history, but that cold, eerie silence remains. The moment your mind dives into reflection, silence takes over. The reality of what was and what is coming to light.
I am grateful to visit these plantations. As an African-American, I think it’s essential that we visit them. In my opinion, by not visiting these historical landmarks, we turn a blind and ignorant eye to all our ancestors went through. It doesn’t matter whether the tourist is black or white. What happened at the plantation and in most of the South did happen. African-American and other slave descendants owe it to our ancestors to visit these places and gain first-hand knowledge and experience what slaves endured. Caucasian-Americans or slave owner descendants should visit to understand and be rid of ignorance.
The entire country is under lockdown during this unfortunate Coronavirus pandemic. As a truck driver though, the show must go on. Whenever my co-driver and I would stop at a truck stop for the night (for one reason or the other), I’d take full advantage and go for walks to explore the area I’ve never been to before. Our last stop was in Las Vegas, New Mexico. At first, I was pissed off because the truck stop wasn’t near anything fun. With Lyft drivers scarce due to possible contraction of the virus, we were practically stuck at the truck stop. There’s only so much one can do inside the truck so that made things worst.
My first stroll around the truck stop, it was about thirty-six degrees outside. My jacket was no match for the cold and wind, I was forced to return to the truck for warmth. After yet another nap to pass the time, I tried again. This time, it was about sixty-four degrees and the sun was out, but setting. The previously boring and desert landscape was illuminated by the setting sun’s brightness. The months of snow in this region damaged the tall weedy grass. The only thing lush in green were spiked grass blades that opened from its root like a blooming onion.
Almost every ten steps I took, I saw more compositions to create a nice image. Coming from Florida, I’m used to the beauty of greens and life everywhere. Who knew the damage done by winter would create such beauty and renewed hope for the coming of spring? I suppose that’s the amazing thing about nature. It’s as if nothing in nature can be ugly or imperfect. Even the dirt paths covered in large pebbles and crushed weeds look enchanting and alive.
I am glad that I took myself out of my disappointment to take these images. I am more disappointed in myself to expect too much. Life is short and no matter where you go, one should see the beauty in it. It is a lesson learned that there doesn’t have to be majestic mountains, exquisite waterfalls, and endless oceans to make a scenery beautiful or worth admiring. A small desert region has just as much beauty to offer, you just have to be willing to find it.
Fall is coming and all I can think about are my past fall trips. Last year, my trip to Atlanta was the perfect start to fall. It was a big difference from the heat of Florida and enough humidity to make a dog actually sweat. Though Georgia’s winter wasn’t very kind to my ribcage arthritis, it is definitely not a place to forget.
Being a truck driver, I finally got to see what the coming of fall looked like. As I drove through Pennsylvania, Virginia, Tennesse and Northern Georgia, I got to see the trees taking on the entire range of fall colors. The reds, oranges, browns, and yellows were amazing. It’s fascinating how nature follows this schedule as they prepare for winter. One could compare it to a peak season in a warehouse. (Yes I worked in a warehouse – Amazon). The entire atmosphere changes as the big event approach.
While in Atlanta, I got to hike through a mountain that was preparing for fall. The trees were going bare, leaves blanketed the ground like snow and everywhere you looked were fifty shades of brown. I know it may sound like a dead zone, but it was anything but that. It was peace and serenity wrapped in a neat bow. You sit on one of the benches provided for you that overlooked the calm river and your head goes to a different place. You sit at in the center of a changing atmosphere, nature preparing for what’s to come ahead. Everything dying around you and yet more beautiful than you could ever imagine.
It is unclear if Florida will even have a winter this year due to the bipolar weather, but the coming of fall is still much anticipated. Perhaps this year we will actually have a fall AND a winter. We’re never prepared for it like we’re never prepared for hurricanes, but for once, we’d like to experience what so many others around the country experience.