Out on the road. Again.
I like poking around little roads and streets. Sometimes I find things. Many times I don’t. I found this little place right off. But, I took my time getting to it. The street was very narrow. There are drainage ditches on both sides of it. If I wanted to stop, I had to park in the middle of it. I wanted to look around a bit and see if there was a lot of traffic. So I drove around. There wasn’t, so I parked in the middle of little bitty street. Sort of a New Orleans thing.
I walked over to this little altar. The owner came out and greeted me. He had no problem with my taking pictures. In fact, I asked him to be in a couple and he joined right in. I may show you one of those later.
But, this is my “Out In The Country Sunday Picture.” It needs to be more iconic. No people. Including people makes it some kind of documentary thing. I suppose if the scene wasn’t all mossy and obviously once water covered — stuff floods around here, you know — this picture could have been taken anywhere. New Mexico, for instance.
When I left and we parted I shook his hand. I introduced myself. He did the same. Martin Marten. Who would do that to a child? My name is bad enough. Most people can’t pronounce it. After all these years, I mostly just chuckle. It sounds just like it looks. In New Orleans, and much the South, there is an easy fix. Tradition and respect says that you just attach the word mister or miz (well, that’s how it sounds) to a person’s given name. So, I’m Mr. Ray.