I know that vineyards are the classic fantasy of blissful, aesthetically pleasing agricultural life - and who doesn't want to make boatloads of money, buy a vineyard in Tuscany and retire to a life of fine wine, blissful landscapes, and great food? Such a pity that the fantasy conceals all that darned hard work.
But driving through Georgia, I slowed to a stop when I saw my first mature pecan orchard. Don't worry, there wasn't anyone else on the road. And just like that, the idle fantasy of winery-ownership was replaced by a vision of pecan harvest. Those old trees, straight and strong, spreading out their arms as they stood in wide-spaced roads - hundreds of them. And beneath them, I am not making this up, were four or five absolutely beautiful horses grazing blissfully in the tree's shade, undisturbed by the drought and the sun's vicious rays.
I forgot about Tuscany, and started thinking a little closer to Tuskegee.
Just like vineyards, the peaceful vista disguised a real nuisance of nut harvesting and tree maintenance - or so my relatives told me. But it didn't help - I still kept thinking about the calm beneath the trees. So I went back to take pictures, and alas, the horses were nowhere to be found.
You'll have to add them in yourself. While you're at it, picture me in there, too, on a rocking chair with a glass of lemonade in one hand - and wine in the other, because I haven't totally given up on vineyards.
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