Down that Red Dirt Road
There is nothing quite like the mixture of these colors: the red Georgia clay, the springtime green of the pines, and the dreamy blue and white of a perfect, wished-for sky. This scenery isn’t particular to one spot; dirt roads intertwine all throughout the South. This specific dirt road is special, however; it leads to the Farm. The road from Cuthbert leaves town, weaves through the country, and then…it simply ends. There is no warning, no sign urging caution. The pavement simply stops, giving way to this red dirt road. That is how you know when you’ve arrived in “the middle of nowhere.”
You keep on going, deep into the pine forests, feeling that you have suddenly slipped back in time. You look up in the rearview mirror and the cloud of dust traps the worries of the world back with the asphalt. You drive on, winding around the curves, up and down the steep hills, cross the bridge, and then finally get your first glimpse of the Farmhouse. Now, it’s just time to go and sit on that porch I was talking about!
Some people think “over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house we go” is just a nursery rhyme…
The South: A Photo Essay by W. J. Newsome is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.