Buck stopped and stood on the corner of East Margin Street and Adams Avenue while slowly turning himself around and concentrating upon everything within his field of vision. He counted fourteen beautifully shaped crepe myrtles, each one so covered in pink or red blossoms that almost none of the green foliage underneath was visible. Looking down, the streetlight now revealed the sidewalk below his feet covered with the coral red blossoms from Tustenuggee's splendid crepe myrtle trees and this vision produced a flicker of wonder which captured Buck's vivid imagination and the exquisite beauty of his floral landscape seemed to transport him to a time when East Margin Street had no pavement and modern marvels like automobiles, electric streetlights and flush toilets didn't exist.

Buck recalled the lines of that poem he wrote decades earlier, "Standing on an old streetcorner laid out in 1823" 

Buck thought that it was as if the crystalline rocks and silica within the concrete of Tustenuggee's sidewalks had somehow recorded the light and sound of two centuries of human activity and the bottoms of Buck's feet were developing a way to receive it and play it all back. He imagined the European scientists who first brought crepe myrtles and camellias to the Gulf South and made them a lovely mainstay of the Southern landscape. Not only did those scientists bring beautiful flowering plants but they brought the astronomical and mathematical expertise necessary to describe the exact position of this old street corner where Buck now stood and to initiate a concept of time that has ruled the lives of each generation up to the present moment and continues to see Tustenuggee's more enterprising citizens  striving to beat the clock each morning.

After standing at the intersection for a few moments, Buck turned toward the river and continued his trek down Adams Avenue. 

"I wonder if Adams is named after John Quincy Adams or his Daddy, John?", Buck asked himself. 

"Four Old Town streets were named after four of the first five presidents in 1823 and John Quincy wasn't elected president until 1824 so it must be named after his old daddy," Buck concluded. "Oh my God, President John Adams was part of the most incredible coincidence of all time! Both he and Thomas Jefferson died on July 4, 1826, the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence and Adams' last words were 'Jefferson still survives,' not knowing that Jefferson had died a few hours earlier. Jefferson wrote the document and Adams successfully led the debate for its adoption in the Continental Congress. Jefferson called Adams the 'Colossus of Independence.' Now that awe inspiring coincidence was about the last thing I wanted to remember tonight after what happened to me at Jake's house!"

  Buck walked with his head in heaven and his feet on the ground as he contemplated how Tustenuggee's streets have always anchored its history but how its streets have not always been paved. For its first century Tustenuggee had no paved streets and those with the least wagon traffic became so choked with weeds during the summer that they barely maintained a footpath but the fact remained that the 99 foot wide public right of way along which Buck stepped tonight was an unchanged space since 1823 even though it had been the site of two centuries of uninterrupted twenty four seven human traffic.

 Tonight Buck felt his hometown street's timeless heritage and imagined how the present moment would impact his future. Buck quickened his pace as he walked toward the Wekiwahatchee as if to burn off some of his excess energy as he contemplated how the universe might be playing with his emotions.

Buck stopped to lean down and pluck a Bahia grass seed stalk. Seventy years of practice enabled Buck to expertly remove the blade of grass at the base of the stalk before sticking the succulent straw between his lips and resuming his journey down the Adams Avenue sidewalk. "I'm sure glad Bahia grass ain't toxic because this po' boy has chewed up a few bales of this stuff along the way." Crunching on his piece of greenery reminded Buck of how much Bahia grass was a big part of his life story due to his family's pioneering work in establishing Bahia grass as the preferred pasture cover in the Wekiwahatchee Valley and just like the name "Adams Avenue", it brought him back to the disturbing memories of tonight's Youtube video with Gene Rayburn talking about the 1939 formation of the Wekiwahatchee Cattlemen's Association while his Grandma Lewis played the piano. That video clip had bypassed all of his psyche's defenses and triggered an unprecedented emotional release that had both stunned and embarrassed Buck.

  The typical flow state stream of consciousness Buck usually enjoyed had been interrupted by the emotional interference produced by the aftermath of his mysterious catharsis and he knew he had to do something about it. If ever Buck needed to practice his daily personal rebirth rituals on the riverbank, it was tonight. 

"Another wonderful evening down by the riverside searching for what to think as I restore my uncluttered mind." Buck mused.