This weekend I headed down to Atlanta to see a friend. I’d been teasing him that as far as I knew, Atlanta had an airport, MARTA trains, and an office of my company. He insisted that there was more to the city.
Unfortunately, he ended up having to work on Saturday down at Callaway Gardens. We headed down there at 0’dark thirty. I dropped him off and headed out to see what there was to do- he had several long breaks. After the recon, I headed back to the Gardens to check them out.

The first thing I went to see was the raptor show. (Oh, did I mention it was 8 million degrees out with 90,000% humidity? I didn’t? Well, it was. There was no shade where the show was.) The first bird was a Great Horned Owl named Juniper. If any of y’all know Orion, well, she was the bird equivalent. Opinion on everything. Very talkative. The next bird was a Red-tailed hawk. I forget his name. At the end of his segment, the trainer told him, “Home”. He flew off in another direction, which prompted her to say to him, “That’s not home. I don’t know what that is.” He wouldn’t come back, so she sent the other trainer after him. They couldn’t catch him, so the show was cancelled. I found this all very amusing. Of course, I was working on about 3 hours sleep, so that may have been part of it. But the hawk was all, “Road trip!”

That afternoon I visited the butterfly pavilion. A butterfly landed on this six year old girl near me, and she said, “It’s not even one of the pretty ones.” Never satisfied, that kid.

That afternoon we went to see The Bourne Ultimatum. Perhaps it would have made more sense had I seen the first two. That would not have excused the shaky camera work, however.

Sunday we checked out Five Points and went to Stone Mountain. We did not hike up (still with the stifling heat), but I did see the carving of the Confederate Generals. Well, kinda. There were trees in front.

The story ends with Myspace confusion, as they so often do.