"Home" Again. Charleston, South Carolina


Tami cut the camellias before our arrival and had them on the table in our little kitchen.


Lee and Frank on the path to the beach - through the smoky marsh.


A scene from the beach on Edisto.


The "other-worldliness" of the setting.


The low-country marshes.


We are in Charleston for a real holiday while Lee is on Spring break. I lived here in the late '70's and '80's and I always feel like I am returning to one of my true homes when I am here. I am so relaxed I may turn into a puddle. We are staying with dear friends in their guest quarters – a circa 1840 kitchen house (the building separated from the main home to protect it from both fire and the heat.) The garden surrounding us is dripping with the remaining camellias, some already carpeting the ground. The azaleas are just opening in shades of pink and white in this garden. The moss is moist underfoot, almost like a sponge. It is dewey and slightly gray with a heaviness in the air. It is 70 degrees. I am in heaven and so is my skin.

Yesterday, Tami and Frank drove us south to Edisto Island. It was a field trip to a lonely place called Botany Bay – 5000 acres of land given to the state (thank god no golf courses!) and it was magical. It was empty but for the four of us and a couple sitting on their beach chairs at the entrance whose only job was to ask people to please not take the shells unless you are fourteen or under. (Then you can pick up to a quart of them.) After spending our past Saturday mingling amongst New Yorkers celebrating first signs of Spring in Central Park and moving through the Saturday crowds at the Metropolitan, this was an “other-worldy” (in Frank’s words) contrast. It was divine.

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