Fried green tomatoes and Oysters Rockefeller. Shrimp and grits for supper and beignets for breakfast. Jazz, Southern-style, and a full moon over Moon River.

Old Dream-Maker

A blessed sojourn on an Island that love has made our own and  which never fails to restore our souls. Cat naps in patches of sunlight like golden wine to our winter-weary hearts. Daydreaming and castle-building and dancing to a live combo at night.

The Verandah

Live oaks and Spanish moss. The salt tang of the marsh and a breeze that makes you know you’re alive. Picnics, indoors and out. Local seafood and early morning ambles and Earl Grey at four.

'Glooms of the live oaks, beautiful-braided and woven...'

The marshes themselves: limitless, humbling. The great sweep of Aliveness. The keen and exquisite Sameness that rushes forth in greeting like an old friend.

'Ye marshes, how candid and simple and nothing-withholding and free! Ye publish yourselves to the sky and offer yourselves to the sea!'

Dolphins almost near enough to touch. White herons stark against golden grass.

Longing for summer and sapphire water and diamond spray.

...There is nothing--absolute nothing--half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats...

Lovely to escape and lovely to come home again. And I’m already asking the age-old question, as much of a piece with our holiday as the tea and the sunlight and the bobbing boats and the curtains of moss and the inevitable tears at departure:

“When can we return?”

La mer a bercé mon coeur pour la vie