Out early, on the road across the wide Mississippi into Arkansas.
Stopped at the Arkansas visitor center, got some good information and an excellent lunch recommendation. Heading west across Arkansas, we came upon some little bridges across what is called a bayou. A romantic name with a storied past, celebrated in song and legend - remember 'Born on the Bayou', Credence Clearwater, Rivial, etc. Well, once again our experience of reality falls short of the stories. See the picture, you judge. I've seen creeks near Chilliwack that look more exotic, but they don't have the gators and snakes that these places has. They showed us the pictures at the visitor's center. The picture below of the tree in the lake - apparently it is not dead and the lake didn't rise, it is a Cypress tree and very happy there thanks very much. Fooled me, but don't argue with the visitor's center. Also, the oil pump is a common feature of the local landscape. Maybe this was the Beverly Hillbillys spread, the Ozarks are just up the road. You remember, 'Then one day he was shootin at some food, when up from the ground came a'bubblin crude - oil that is, Texas tea. Etcetera'. Do you remember that? Jan and I get a little crazy as we experience sensory deprevation and a certain amount of terminal boredeom when the days are long. Today was one of those days.
A ways down the road was a big field of cotton that had been machine harvested, the bushes cut off and looking like corn field stubble. On the other side, a field that looked like it had been just left there, with big cottom balls popping out of the buds but all the leaves gone and the bush dry and dormant. So I stopped the car and walked across the low scrub between the road and the field, 10 yards or so, became a 'cotton picker' for a few minutes, and brought the evidence back to Jan in the car. Then I thought about the gators and snakes that could have been there, I'm not that bright.
Got to a small town called El Dorado, Arkansas, for lunch. The restaurant was recommended by the visitor center, otherwise it would not have been our first choice. Greeted by a cat, I like cats, the cat then circled around me as cats do, then walked up my leg. Now it was a small cat, a siamese cross kitten, pretty light but sharp claws. The camera was still in my hand, which is how I got the shot before it jumped down. I love this picture, though, charming cat. And the lunch of barbecued ribs, deep fried Okra, baked beans, and freshly deep-fried potato chips was wonderful. If it wasn't that they are all so freaking religeous I would move here next week. Every second building down here is a baptist church. Well, I exagerate a bit, but there are a lot of them.
Down the road again after lunch, wound up in Paris for the night. Texas, that is, Paris Texas. Crossed the state line at Texarkana, a town of 21000 demented souls that stradles the border between Texas and Arkansas, as if you couldn't tell by the name. We are spending the night here in Paris, in the midst of a thunderstorm that rattles the windows. Exciting, we don't get em like this back home. We are hoping the thing burns itself out by the morning. We will take our time with the countryside tomorrow, destination Wichita Falls, still in Texas.
