The next morning we decide to take a brief tour of the Garden District before leaving for Memphis. It is a lovely area whose oak shaded streets are lined with large, old, gracious, graceful homes. Mardi gras beads dangle from the trees, landing there over the years after being thrown from floats, looking like glittering Spanish moss. We drive by the convent which was the former home of gothic novelist Anne Rice and then plot our route out of town.
Since coming in we took the bridge over Lake Pontchartrain, we decide to depart traveling along it's marshy shoreline. The road is built on a causeway due to the waterlogged condition of the terrain. Towering cypress tress wear their red mantle of fall, tall white cranes feed and wade among the reeds. Apparently caiman also call this area home, however, we didn't see any of those.
Later, as we made our way through Tennessee, cotton fields flanking the road on either side my travel buddy remarked,"Well, we did set out to see fall color, the first color we're seeing is white."
We did spend one night in Memphis seeing what was left of Beale Street and doing a drive by of the site of Sun Records. I, to this day, have never been to St. Louis.