head on down 46 until it turns into 7 then it should dead end at the trace. This maybe a foolish idea if we do not find enough food to last us on the long walk to Tupelo. I will look through the stores in this small town tomorrow and see what I can find. I al
so need to find a way to carry more food than I can on my back. Hope can not carry anything and I would not ask it of her, I still don’t think she feels well. If only she could talk and tell me what’s wrong. The weather this last week and a half may just have her down. She does not look sick or have a fever. I just don’t know.We are now in my land
, ground that was kissed by God. There is no more diverse part of this world than the Great American South. You can walk from mountains to delta to ocean to swamp and will never see another place like it. The foot hills of the Smokey’s are covered in mist of mysteries. While the swamps hide secrets, the stoic cyprus will 
never tell. The pine tress whisper in your ears when the wind blows and the sweet smell of honey suckle makes the humid summer days thick of stories told by old men. The d
elta made people so poor they were rich with song; songs heard around the world. Kudzu covers the ground and Spanish moss hangs from the 
trees, it all says welcome home.Home; if I can do one last thing I want to find a home for this little girl. I can not give her what she needs, what I once knew. A home is many things to many people. But to me long ago it was a place, so full of love it was as if you could touch it. It was not easy, and there were times, but it was the best of times, to quote a famous line. That is my hope fore this little one. To know what a home is. Can I give this one last thing, time will tell……….
One more can to bury tonight; full of words written to the ghost of myself in the past.
Go to Day 1066
