Wandering Aimlessly
Migration: South 2015
by Phil Burkhouse
I have generally looked down my nose at those people, loosely classified as snowbirds, who turn tail and run to the southern climes for the winter. I have more or less classified them in categories characterized by terms such as sissies, pansies, or wimps. As my life rapidly approaches the upper limits of the sixth decade, it is finally beginning to dawn on me that a brief respite from old man winter might not be such a bad idea—I am heading toward wimphood.
I have two sisters that live permanently in southern South Carolina, and my mother migrates from West Creek each November to their abodes not to return north until mid-April.