You notice the change as you approach the coastline....
The air feels thick, the pungent smell of salt air and tidal marshes drawing you in.
Once known for its agricultural wealth in rice and indigo, today the area’s natural beauty and cultural heritage makes for strong tourism.
The low country.
So named for this cultural and geographic region along the coast of South Carolina and Georgia, where marsh becomes mudflat as the fast tides ebb and flow.
It feels low.
The views widen to reveal open marshland and just as quickly disappear behind thick tree lines of pine and evergreen. The majestic live oaks silently share stories of their generations, filtering sunlight through the shrouds of moss they wear, like mourning veils.
I feel small beneath the tall canopy.
There’s a distinct haunted feeling I can’t escape, like the ghosts of past souls, or the massive oak trees, have secrets to share.
The people, the history, the food...
and the love that surrounds me....
I’m not sure what it is exactly that grabbed me so hard.
Whatever it is, I am spellbound..