We love this post by one of favorite bloggers, At Home She Feels Like a Tourist:

A little more than four years ago, your humble blogger arrived in Memphis, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, from that leftist utopia on the west coast, the magnificent Bay Area. (OK, let’s be honest – I’ve never been particularly bright-eyed or bushy-tailed. More like – glowering and misanthropic.) I had no idea if I would stay in Memphis for very long. I returned frequently to SF during my first year, always with a sense of returning to normalcy.

Except in the past few years, I stopped feeling the need to return to SF. And Memphis stopped feeling so odd and alien to me. I no longer imagine the streets teeming with missing pedestrians, nor do I do a double-take at every Southern accent, nor do I even notice the landscape of endless churches dotting the city. It has been ages since I hopped in my car with my camera and drove to Summer Avenue or Thomas Street or Orange Mound to photodocument the many neighborhoods in Memphis which receive short shrift thanks to the over-the-top midtown boosterism. This city on the bluff, with all its charm and all its tragedy, has pretty much claimed me. I’m not a tourist here anymore.

Read the rest here.