What a day! My first trip to historic Cumberland Island National Seashore.
Prep for the day’s jaunt was easy. Backpack (check!), insect repellent (check!), National Parks Passport (check!) tickets for ferry ride to the island (check!) lunch and water bottles (check that!) comfortable socks and hiking boots (double check!) shoes for strolling around St Mary’s afterwards (check check!)
We were ready and packed. The ride to Cumberland Island would take us one hour and forty-seven minutes from Savannah. Loaded up and fueled up we hit the road.
Previously to setting out on the excursion, Neal and I had watched a video on following a recommended 4 hour hiking trail, 4.3 miles, one obviously liked by many an outdoorsman before us, so we were game!
As expected, nothing could really prepare me for the raw beauty of this untamed natural treasure! Here I was, boots on the ground and eager to explore.
Shortly after leaving the base camp I spotted a sign. “Foot traffic only”. I could not resist the irony of the moment so I put my foot it.
(It was funny at that moment. Really!)
Breathtakingly huge old trees stretched their ancient limbs outward, and bushes of every type rustled as tiny birds flittered through them. Minutes turned into miles and trails into beach, boardwalks and 40 foot sand dunes. Lost in the glory of it all, hours had passed.
Those sandy slopes decided to claim their first victim on this day. My foot went in to the sand and half a boot came out, followed by a spray of pearly silky sand flung into the air by my partially hanging sole.
This cannot be happening! Such a rapturous day of freedom from cares and communion with nature, now my boot has a soul-splitting experience. I belted out wait, look what just happened”, as Neal was already half way up the sand dune. In my distress I exclaimed, “We must go back!”
My husband, not at all enthused by the prospect, assured me that he believed the blown boot could survive the final part of our 4 hour trek as we had traveled well beyond the halfway point. Rest and sanctuary would be just up the beach.
As the fates would have it, several meters up the beach I had a soul splitting experience. Yes the sole departed, actually, completely from my left boot leaving only the insole held by the cloth that wrapped around my foot. I heard of losing one self in nature but this was ridiculous!
Not believing this could happen to me or that now I was sure I could not make back to base camp, my mind searched frantically for how “The law of Attraction” must be at play. I mean really? Really?! Really!! The squish scrunch sound of me trudging on the beach sand actually took me out of my head as we neared the striped pole marking our return to the wooded trails.
To my surprise and amazement, we saw several other nature lovers had abandoned their troubled foot gear along this path.
Back at the base camp I thought, “I only have to get back on that ferry then to the car and my troubles will be over.” In the rush to be first naturists back on the ferry, I was now leading a group of weary daytrippers to the sound of scritch, scuff, scratch all the way up the ramp on the boat. Leaving sandy outlines of my former left boot. Neal quietly assured me no one noticed but I mentally disagreed!
So now as we tell our wonderful story of Cumberland Island, this whole story seems humorous. A friend asked me, “So what you are saying is you lost your sole (soul) on Cumberland Island?” Yes I heartedly laughed!
Driving down any Georgia State road and you will see them. Buildings cast off from civilization and left to decay. Left to tell a story of an earlier time…
Buildings from a not so distant past. Homes no longer lived in… Barns with no livestock and over grown with vines… Sheds collapsing on the side of the state highway.
Weathered barns and abandoned sheds. Old remnants of life that has been left behind as we moved to suburbs and condos. Now we are using garages and self-storage to lodge our possessions. These are the stories they tell.
For many falls and winters were the harvests gathered and fields plowed and those goods brought in through this door.
Generations upon generations lived here. The new mixed-use condos and luxury apartments sprang up and they move. Yet I remain. I ask the old structure… Where is your soul? Where are the tales of harsh winters and barren summers?
Left abandoned to suggest to those passing by in SUVs that the old way did not persist. Hey you! Stop here for just a moment to listen the wood creak and shutters that hang by a rusted hinge missing two screws.
I stop!
I… Listen!
I record with my camera the unspoken words written in decaying wood, broken glass and rusting metal.
Building here… did I not find a permanent place in time?
One day as I traveled a little side road, US-280W, on my way to Glennville from Savannah, I had to stop and photograph what I called Lost America. It was like time had slowed down just enough for cars to catch a glimpse of yester-year. I jumped out, iPad Air in hand and snapped away. Walking back to my car, I spotted a stowaway. A hidden traveler. It was a little grasshopper on my tire by the side of the road.
Now where did that little green guy think he was going? Even more, where had he been? Did I miss the signpost up ahead that read… “The Twilight Zone”.
My chocolate photos come from the preparation of the anniversary celebration with my partner of 4 years (now husband of 3 years) back in March of 2014. I like to surprise him, and surprise him I did. I live in Savannah, Georgia and right off Broughton Street in beautiful Historic Downtown. All those storefronts provided near endless inspiration for my secret task. One such establishment was Savannah Bee Company, known for their delicious variety of local honey products, such as their grilling honey, great on Georgia peaches, but i’ll save those pictures for another post. What is not commonly know is Savannah Bee Company has honey mead. Mead? Yes mead, like the time of knights, maids, noblemen. Mead is an alcoholic beverage made from fermenting honey with water and various fruits, spices, grains and hops. Good stuff. This was my first stop, and the lovely mead maid Danielle Hicks (local singer/song writer, bee keeper and good friend) suggested a cherry mead with spicy notes. Great choice, I must declare. So what then should I pair with spicy-sweet drink? Chocolate was Danielle’s reply.
So off to the one place I knew I could not go wrong when it comes to chocolate…Chocolat By Adam Turoni.Again on Broughton Street and again Savannah’s Best Kept Secret, its very own chocolatier known for Savannah Bee Honey Filled Chocolate Bars. I opened the doors, and there was to most elegant chocolate store on earth. Yeah, they put Godiva chocolate to shame. To the right and left, beautiful cases displaying hand crafted pieces of chocolate heaven. There were tables with chocolate masterpieces and those famous honey filled bars. I had one before, it was too good for words. Really! Many tourists filled the store, so I waited patiently to talk to the creator himself. I was on a mission for the perfect gift, and I didn’t just want a knowledgable sale girl when Adam was right there.
Charming and well spoken, this craftier of delights took me around the various glass cases offering his suggestions on the perfect pairing. In the end I took two of each. Needless to say the revealing of my anniversary surprise was pleasurable to the senses; sight, smell, and taste. The star of this show, Chocolate, oh, chocolate.
[ngg src=”galleries” ids=”27″ display=”pro_tile”]
Chocolate Kisses
chocolate kisses, sweet, melt in your mouth rich and smooth tempting sensations devouring, savoring, each delicious morsel of you lips, sweeter than chocolate.