I was a big fan of the mossy trees in New Orleans.
Oh the old, the young, the rich or poor all alike to me, you know. No wealth, no land, no silver no gold, nothing satisfies me but your soul.
And no matter what they did to build this city up again for the rest of time, it will be like no-one even knew we was ever here.
The South, from the vantage point of the balcony on the Oak Alley Plantation in Louisiana. The trees predated the mansion and dictated where it was built.
Old timey checkers, anyone?