Farewell, Mississippi

We began our last day with breakfast on the sunny front porch of a great little joint called Buzzy's: grits, an egg, and a biscuit (Southern style) for me, pancakes and eggs for Sue, served by a gutsy woman with a great sense of self and a ready laugh. As we finished our coffee, a large white man arrived wearing a T-shirt with a semi-automatic rifle printed on it. He approached us smiling.

"How you ladies doin?"

I answered lightly, "Fine thanks." A pause, and my southern training kicked in. "And you?"

"It's a great day," he answered, spreading his legs wide and gesturing with both hands to the sky. "The Cubs won the series, Donald Trump won the election, and yesterday I killed the biggest deer of my life."

"You're a happy man," I nodded gravely as I looked away.

The day improved when we reached Leif's house. We chatted energetically, walked around the Anderson compound, visited the pottery showroom, admired Leif's paintings and line-drawings, and talked about our lives. We sat on the fishing pier, got some sandwiches for a picnic lunch on the bayou, and ended with some extraordinary custard ice cream before saying goodbye to Leif for now, hoping she can come visit Portland again before another three years pass.

At the end of the shining day, Sue and I went for a long walk by the Mississippi Sound, quiet together and at ease in the waning day, watching dolphins gambol and leap among gulls, herons, and terns as the sun went down and the sky caught fire.

Tomorrow we'll pause in Biloxi to see the Frank Gehry buildings and the Ohr museum, and then drive back to New Orleans and the airport, arriving in Portland past midnight. It feels to us as if we were so much younger when we left than we are now. The unveiling of all that is wrong with the USA continues. Meanwhile the land and the sea burn our eyes with their beauty, the people who share our values prepare for a long struggle, and much work lies ahead for us all.