Six years strong this trip. Six years of planning, saving, making lists, searching, finding, resting. We mark this weekend on the calendar a year ahead of time to make sure it happens. And, our boys are so gracious to make sure it happens.
New Orleans was already imprinted on my heart, from 13 years ago, cleaning up devastation from Katrina. I was surprised by how often Katrina was mentioned, especially once people found out we were from Carolina, fresh off of Florence ourselves. We marveled at how other-worldly New Orleans is. She's got a culture, a language, a history, rich and thick (just like the heat & humidity) - all of her own. Jazz fills her streets from sun up to sun down. Beignets are hot and ready, any time you want 'em. Sazeracs are shaken on demand.
We wandered on foot, up and down, and back again over five miles of Magazine street. We dipped into cafés for lavender infused lattés and peanut buddah brotha donuts. We scouted antique shops for souvenirs. We wore our bodies out, walking the streets, breathing it all in. We wishfully regretted not having a few extra days to take in more of everything.
We talked of life and dreamed together, as we always do. And my heart left more full than it was when it arrived. always
