Whats in a name? Or a wrong turn?

 

Kind of random but we were heading up to North Carolina for memorial day weekend to visit family and went to Tryon to have dinner with them on the way.  We completely missed our exit and wandered through the most switch back roads you've ever been on.  I mean nausea inducing.  These roads took us through the steep Appalachian mountains of Saluda and wandering by the Green River which is famous for its trout.  So needless to say, it was a blessing we missed our exit because now Nate & I know where we want to plan a little vacay in the near future.  We love discovering small town america and going for short visits.  We did finally make it to Tryon and had a delightful little dinner at Sidestreet Pizza & Pasta http://www.sidestpizza.com , not bad for being in the middle of nowhere, and it was a packed house too. 

So back to my point of this posting.  While meandering back out to the highway we notice a sign (the one pictured above), wow, out of nowhere....such a suprise....here on a randomly traveled road we spot Nate's ancestors final resting place or the place he died.  Nate's middle name is Lanier, his cousins middle name is Lanier, his other cousins name is Sidney Lanier (a she)...it seems his whole families middle name is Lanier, out of thier great pride and association to this poet who lies deep in thier geneology.  So cool.  We swerve around head back to the location and take a few pictures.  We already knew there was a Lake Lanier in South Carolina, there is a street called Lanier in our new neighborhood, but low and behold a historic site in Tryon, NC, on a road we may have never traveled, if it hadn't been for the wrong turn.  P.S This man looks just like my husband!  Kind of.

Sidney Lanier

A Song Of The Future.

Sail fast, sail fast,
Ark of my hopes, Ark of my dreams;
Sweep lordly o'er the drowned Past,
Fly glittering through the sun's strange beams;
Sail fast, sail fast.
Breaths of new buds from off some drying lea
With news about the Future scent the sea:
My brain is beating like the heart of Haste:
I'll loose me a bird upon this Present waste;
Go, trembling song,
And stay not long; oh, stay not long:
Thou'rt only a gray and sober dove,
But thine eye is faith and thy wing is love.

Final Home of Sidney Lanier
Some random road in Tryon.