Amanda Walker: Getting lost in Alabama yard art

This is an opinion column

There is a house on a dirt road near Red Level that I make a point to pass by when I am down that way. The house sits relatively close to the road and in lieu of a fence there are several concrete blocks stacked on top of one another in such a way as to act as a fence of sorts.

The blocks are turned side ways so that the two openings in the center face the road, and inside most of the openings is a trinket – a small vase with flowers, or a red ceramic cat, or a brass owl. It is more than the eye can take in with just a single pass.

You won`t find yard art like that in neighborhoods where there is an active home owner’s association. The same with houses on roads or highways in high traffic areas. You might see a welcome sign taller than the front door, or one of those big signs that say, “HOME” propped up prominently on the porch.

I wonder how that got to be popular. Why do we display the word home outside of what is obviously a home that serves as a single family dwelling. I hope people are not getting so drunk they need to leave themselves reminders. It could get confusing in some neighborhoods.

Current trends are fine. They look nice, and are often suited to the style of the house, the area, or community. But it is on the porches and in the yards of homes far out from city limit signs where creativity seems more genuine and Joanna Gaines has no influence.

You are probably going to have to take backroads to see authentic Alabama yard art. That is exactly what I was doing last Thursday when I veered to the right off of Highway 10 onto a paved lane on the way back to Camden from Greenville.

The distance between these two towns is approximately 45 miles. I told my friend Shirley that I did not think it was possible for the two of us – each being lifelong residents of the general region – to get lost between Camden in Greenville no matter which road we took.

I said even if we did not know exactly where we were, I could just keep driving until we came to a place we recognized. I figured we would eventually come out back on Highway 10, or on Highway 28, both of which lead to Camden, and in case of last resort, I assumed we could use the GPS on either of our phones.

This was going well. It was a lovely day. The sun was shining bright. We had stopped at two different drive-thrus and got chicken at both. It was like a rolling picnic. We had the radio playing and the sunroof tilted. But soon we had reached a place where there was no phone service, no other cars traveling along, no more houses with any kind of yard art whatsoever, no power lines, and the pavement was beginning to crack. Still beautiful country nonetheless.

The first two times we came to this spot…I turned around in went back to the nearest crossroads, none of which looked any more promising than the last. So I would turn around and go back to where the pavement was cracking. Each time I would drive a little further saying it was beginning to look like Wilcox County roads…but then the pavement completely ended.

I turned the car around, again, and we were headed back to the crossroads that lead to nowhere when a loaded log truck pulled out into the road. We knew it would be headed to a mill.

It was like a guiding light. We followed the truck and it led us back to Highway 10. We completed the drive without anymore scenic tours, but if you ever want to get lost in search of yard art…you can waste a couple of hours turned around in Forest Home, Alabama.

Amanda Walker is a columnist and contributor with AL.com, The Birmingham News, Selma Times Journal, Thomasville Times, West Alabama Watchman, and Alabama Gazette. Contact her at Walkerworld77@msn.com or at https://www.facebook.com/AmandaWalker.Columnist.