Twofer Tuesday... Florida and Alabama... Part One

As we rolled into our Holiday Inn on the west side of Pensacola last night, the sun set behind us, a ruby ball. We had outrun the chilly, cloudy cool that we encountered in Louisiana, and the evening was pleasant. We ordered pizza in, and hit the sack early, hoping to get an early start at the beach. This morning we woke up to the chilly, cloudy cool. It had caught up with us. Not affected in the least we headed south toward Pensacola Beach, and the Gulf Islands National Seashore. Soon we found ourselves on the outer strand of Pensacola Beach. The weather kept everyone not from Colorado and Canada away. We had miles of pure, white, powdery sand beach to ourselves. Rene' immediately found herself in paradise, picking seashells from the high tide line, and the kids dodged the incoming waves with smiles as wide as the Gulf. It was an hour of paradise. We headed north across Eglin AFB to Crestview and the highest point in Florida, Britton Hill, 345 feet and the lowest high point in the United States of America. The road up to that part of Florida's pandhandle passed some magnificent homes, situated on private lakes (private to them alone) surround by willows and spectacularly adorned with azaleas. Wow. Perfect time of year for the azaleas, and they are everywhere this far down. There is something about leaving the interstate and heading for a high point that causes the thrill of the unknown, and the thrill of the hunt. We follow directions from our guidebooks, our road atlas, and our iphones, now switching back and forth with agility born from experience. We notice that enterprising Floridians have re-routed the approach to Britton Hill with signs that keep us entirely in-state, whereas the guidebooks had us going through Florala, Alabama. Good for them, it's their high point. Britton Hill is a parking lot and small park on the west side of the road, with a view to the east that is nothing like the 3000 feet above everything else that is Texas. But it is a stunning green, filled with trees in their brightest spring colors, and it has a charm of its own. We take our family picture and head north on Alabama state road 331, generally in the direction of Montgomery. Alabama 331 reminds us completely why we are doing this. It is a lonely drive through the countryside of small towns, lonely homes, churches... baptist churches, and green. We would never see this otherwise, and it is worth seeing. It is America. Not the America of Disney World, Bourbon Street, the National Parks, or anywhere the crowds go. But America that is the sum of its wonderful people who live everyday lives, who work and play and go to church and try to work out their lives, their liberties, and their pursuit of happiness as the Lord leads them. It is a wonderful land. One thing I love about the south: so many churches have graveyards next door. I think this is entirely fitting to be buried next to the people with whom you worship and serve the Lord week after week all your lives, and I find that I'm jealous.