Girls of the South

"Her southerness laid deep within her, as crystalline as slight sugars in a jar of sun-tea, waiting for the stir of a hand to swirl the contents, the sugar colliding and crashing, clinging to the edges and when you inhaled you drew in the sweetness very briefly…until the storm settled and the sugars floated gently again to the bottom."

There is something about southerners. Southern ladies, in particular. And as I send my daughter back to Atlanta this week, I wonder what it is about the exquisite nature of the women, both young and old, who occupy the South.

My wife's accent comes out noticeably with wine, a wonderful sound of consonants and a lilt at the end, with roots tracing back to her time in Southern Virginia and college. Our friends are mostly from Virginia, but even when we visit Atlanta, you can trace the language as the brogue grows deeper and deeper the further south you travel.

Heartiest of women. More than the Scarlett who stands fiercely in resolve to never starve again. Rather, they "fix" things.

They fix the rough spots in men, they fix the holes in people's lives. They fix the meanness of the cities and they fix the hurts of others.

They're not Sarah Palin. They'd never shoot a moose. But maybe they'd take care of a chicken or a well-fattened hog. In order to provide.

The fashion of the south still resonates today, in a mall-infested Abercrombie/Hollister wearing world, where lace and linen can still find flair. Where a hat and gloves are still in vogue. Little eyelet dresses with simple colors can still catch many a fine man's eye.

The manners of the south remain steadfast and unfortunately almost coy. The "ma'ams" and the "sirs", still unfortunately most prevalent in diners and restaurants, but still sometimes found in the small shops where people still work by hand. (Tip: Take a walk down King Street in Charleston, SC).

The weather in the South is perhaps what brings about these Southern women, like hot-house plants that thrive on humidity and bloom in night heat. They fan, they drink teas and lemonades, but they don't complain. They don't mind a sweat from work and they don't mind if their hands get dirty. A lady covered in potting soil, sweating through her shirt, standing amongst the colors of fresh planted flowers is among my most favorite sights.

They bake, they cook. They weed, they churn. And when they open their mouths, it is pure honey.

My daughter hasn't quite adopted a southern accent. But she's gaining on the easy-going nature and civilities that surround her in the oaks and azaleas in Georgia. I could never ask for a better nurturing ground to plant her in.