the end of what we affectionately call the berry patch
run, resides an electrical tower the size of Paris'
Eiffel...at its base in the Spring, grow the wildest
of flavorful black berries which if you can stand
the sting of the surrounding deerflys who wait like
vultures for dimwits who pause longer than 4 milliseconds,
will give a scrumptious reward indeed [berries not
in the views above, Alton tells tale of having walked
the bottom of the Savannah River as a commercial diver
who has welded and cut large pieces of metal gone
awry from the muddy waters floor...we of course enjoy
learning more of life's lessons from someone who has
dug so deep...
click on the thumbnails below, from left to right,
row by row for next in sequence...