Downtown Atlanta, Monday morning.

Decatur Cemetery, yesterday. Charlie contemplates mortality/geese.

Decatur, this morning.

Avondale Station, last night.

Dogs of my Thanksgiving: Pepper, Callie, Bruce, Jeffrey Pine, Trixie, Rhoda, Biscuit.

Yesterday in Camilla, Ga.

Earth, you are really neat.

Scenes from a weekend in Dayton, Tenn.

Edith Hamilton, throwing shade. (Elsewhere: "Ovid’s tale is good only occasionally. He gives a charming picture of Atalanta among the hunters which I have put into my account, but often, as in the description of the boar, he is so exaggerated, he verges on the ridiculous. Apollodorus is not picturesque, but he is never absurd.")

Decatur Cemetery, Thursday night.

Plants and weather, yesterday and today.

Chattanooga, please do something good with your beautiful old YMCA building. (What happened to these plans, I wonder?)

"We will be moving momentarily."

Last week I spent a few days bumming around small towns in middle Georgia on a meandering reporting trip where one of the only must-do’s was visiting both of the Yesterday Cafes that claim to have the best buttermilk pie in the state. This one was superior. But the other one looked just like it.

Scene from a semi-illegal MARTA photo-shoot in process.