We had just finished a relaxing three-day stay in Northern Georgia (a close-to-holy pilgrimage for many Florida residents). We needed to make good time to complete the 600 mile journey that day. My daughter’s good at driving like that, but I like to stop at way to many places along the way.
I had just convinced her to stop for onions (Vidalia of course) and honey. So I didn’t think she’d be interested in stopping at a pecan orchard so I could take a picture, but I asked anyway. Thankfully, there was a perfect pull in in spot right at the end of the orchard so she agreed.
I know that pecans come from trees, but I never really give them much thought. This day, all that changed. I had never seen pecan trees that close, and I was grateful to know their origins.
Before long we were flying south back down the road, and we did make it home in time. But I’m grateful for this sweet stop that cost us nothing and gave us a restful break from a monotonous and an appreciation for where my pecans come from.