Alabama Red Dirt

The journey begins with a text: "On the plane. Love u much. Will call later." Two hours later, as the plane starts its descent into Birmingham, I notice in the distance the firey bursts of a thunderstorm. The flash of lightening is surprisingly frequent. In fact, it seems to come in an ordered pattern, lighting up the same cloud formations in regular intervals. I wonder what city it is hovering over and continue to observe, mesmerized, until we disappear into a light cloud cover. Upon deplaning I am met by a blast of the oppressive heat I remember feeling on my last visit 30 years before. I had traveled with my mom to sit at my paternal grandmother's bedside as she lay dying of cancer.

I head for baggage claim, worried that I need to visit the rental car desk before it closes. I have not yet reserved a vehicle for my trip to Montgomery and Selma. I exit the terminal steeling myself once more against the hot breath of the Birmingham evening and start quickly across the street toward the rental car companies. A man straddling the median sees me and says, "You must be in a hurry to get home." I tell him I am a visitor in need of a car. He gives me the thumbs up and chuckles, "Do whatcha got ta do!" I am charmed and set at ease by this exchange.

After being told to reserve a car over the phone, I return to ground transportation to call the hotel shuttle. It is then that I realize I have not picked up my checked luggage. I return to baggage claim just in time to retrieve my bags. I am ready to begin the next phase of Red Dirt. Text: "Just landed. The journey and adventure begins..."