Starrs Mill and Waterfall

The red-painted Starr’s Mill, in Fayette County just a mile south of Peachtree City, is one of the most historic, picturesque and famously photographed sites in the state. The Mill sits along what was once a portion of the old McIntosh Trail, a famous Indian trail that ran from the Ocmulgee River on the eastern border of Butts County in Georgia onward to Alabama and beyond. Starr’s Mill has been featured in numerous magazines as well as the movie "Sweet Home Alabama” starring Reese Witherspoon. Starrs Mill is an Unincorporated community in Fayette County, Georgia, United States. It is centered at Georgia State Route 85 and Georgia State Route 74. We actually passed the entrance because it is a very small community. I included photos that you cannot find on the Internet or brochures about Starrs Mill. I have included the surrounded area as well as the friendly ducks.

'Because I could not stop for Death' by Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death

Because I could not stop for Death--
He kindly stopped for me--
The Carriage held but just Ourselves--
And Immortality.

We slowly drove--He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility--

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess--in the Ring--
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain--
We passed the Setting Sun--

Or rather--He passed us--
The Dews drew quivering and chill--
For only Gossamer, my Gown--
My Tippet--only Tulle--

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground--
The Roof was scarcely visible--
The Cornice--in the Ground--

Since then--'tis Centuries--and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity--

Emily Dickinson

 The Red Buggy:
 The picture of the red buggy was taken outside of Wellsville, PA.  Wellsville has changed very little visually during the twentieth century; the borough's appearance has remained that of a nineteenth-century community, complete with brick sidewalks and Gothic Revival and Greek Revival houses. Because of its unusually high quality of preservation, nearly all of the community was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1977 as the "Wellsville Historic District". 

'The Fire of Drift-Wood' by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

The Fire of Drift-Wood

We sat within the farm-house old,
Whose windows, looking o'er the bay,
Gave to the sea-breeze damp and cold,
An easy entrance, night and day.
Not far away we saw the port,
The strange, old-fashioned, silent town,
The lighthouse, the dismantled fort,
The wooden houses, quaint and brown.
We sat and talked until the night,
Descending, filled the little room;
Our faces faded from the sight,
Our voices only broke the gloom.
We spake of many a vanished scene,
Of what we once had thought and said,
Of what had been, and might have been,
And who was changed, and who was dead;
And all that fills the hearts of friends,
When first they feel, with secret pain,
Their lives thenceforth have separate ends,
And never can be one again;
The first slight swerving of the heart,
That words are powerless to express,
And leave it still unsaid in part,
Or say it in too great excess.
The very tones in which we spake
Had something strange, I could but mark;
The leaves of memory seemed to make
A mournful rustling in the dark.
Oft died the words upon our lips,
As suddenly, from out the fire
Built of the wreck of stranded ships,
The flames would leap and then expire.
And, as their splendor flashed and failed,
We thought of wrecks upon the main,
Of ships dismasted, that were hailed
And sent no answer back again.
The windows, rattling in their frames,
The ocean, roaring up the beach,
The gusty blast, the bickering flames,
All mingled vaguely in our speech;
Until they made themselves a part
Of fancies floating through the brain,
The long-lost ventures of the heart,
That send no answers back again.
O flames that glowed! O hearts that yearned!
They were indeed too much akin,
The drift-wood fire without that burned,
The thoughts that burned and glowed within.

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow