A sign found on my ride. It has always intrigued me, but I finally stopped to take a picture. The picture is about 64 percent more cosmopolitan than it had any right to be, especially back when it was new and suggested a good time, or at least an escape from a miserable time.
From the house next door I heard someone’s sorrowful cough.
This used to be a gas station, I’m sure. But now it is a wonderful distressed feeling nursery.
It looks like everyone packed up and left it years ago, but the place is still open.
Not sure of the surviving atmosphere, though. If you knew nothing else you’d think this was the place to visit for the unkempt Southern gothic vibe. This bush is going to turn into a tree and take over the lot.
