{Note: This is one time you'll want to click pictures to supersize them!
In this case, bigger is better!!}
The mecca of our family's summer pilgrimage is more than sand and sea…
It's where the wild things are.
The only high rises are Live Oaks older than your mama's mama's great-grandmama, their octopus branches a' tangle, verdant canopy dripping with Spanish moss (which has little to do with Spain).
Each one is home to a thousand creatures times ten, feathered or furry or the creepy kind that bore holes and feed the birds and make your skin crawl at first sight. No matter that you're 100 times bigger, one Palmetto bug makes the macho man girly-squeal. In spite of the pretty name, it ain't nothin' but a crunchy-shelled cockroach needing a good stompin'. I'll do the honors–we grow 'em gargantuan in the South.
Kiawah Island… named for the natives who lived there first–did they comprehend the treasure they held? It's a place that nourishes soul and expresses Creation as the delight of its Creator. He embodies each hand-stroked masterpiece–the fragile mystery of dollars in sand, relentless ocean thunder, dazzling skies in colors yet to be named.
I relish this beach. It's deep and wide and and almost solitary.
I waver, wanting to tell the world about its beauty yet hold tight its secrets. There are many.
Unexpected friends appear from no where and tickle my adventure senses.
I'm speechless in their presence, holding my breath to hold hostage the moment. Sometimes it works if my steps are fairy-silent.
Lofty, slothy, graceful or awkward, I stop and stare and they mirror my rudeness. Or are they just as curious as me?
"A day without laughter is like a day without sunshine," and at Kiawah, alligators = laughter. I stalk these prehistoric beasts, and their find thrills me!
While my spirit inhabits flesh, Kiawah Island is my heart's retreat, the place on earth I long for. I want to share it with those I love and those who've not yet had the pleasure, and returning each year is a tradition I beg my children to savor. Somehow, it speaks to eternity; I suppose because it's the most beautiful place I know, and God promises his side of death is better than anything we can imagine here.
Until I shed first skin, Kiawah will ever be my happiest place away from home.
Your turn: Can you relate? Do you have a "happy place"? Please share why you love it.
Those pictures are amazing.
Robin, reading you is like wrapping up in a comfortable blanket on your Granny’s couch with a glass of sweet tea.
It’s home, it’s soothing, it’s beauty and peace.
I LUV your way with words! “God promises his side of death is better than anything we can imagine here.” How beautiful is that?
I’d like to spend some time there. And by “there” I mean “in your imagination.” Beautifully written, Robin.
Oh, and I suppose I wouldn’t mind going to Kiawah someday, too. Laughing with alligators sounds like fun. (It also sounds like a cool band name.)
My happy place is definitely waaaay different than yours. I actually just posted about how much I (heart) NYC after a recent visit.
I love that this world is full of so many drastically different environments so that we can each discover a taste of the joy that eternity promises.
Thanks for the awesome post.
Molly, You’re right–those two ARE different! I’ve been to NYC only once–over 20 years ago–but I’d love to go back. Talk about diversity within a small area. Ummm, yeah.
Noveldoctor!!! Thanks for visiting the ol’ Pensieve after a long hiatus! Guess you have a lot of wordpatients to see?? Anyways, thanks for your kind words. If you’re ever on the East coast, Kiawah would be a WONDERFUL stop for you (& anyone else who’s never been).
Gorgeous. Had to look it up and find out where it was. So beautiful.
That last picture is breathtaking, Robin. I can see why Kiawah Island evokes magic. What a treasure.
My happy place is another wilderness — the Boundary Waters Canoe Area, on the border of Canada and Minnesota. It’s about a million acres of lakes and islands and rocks and trees, pretty much in pristine condition. Peaceful. Untouched. Majestic. Wild.
Memories only add to the mystique. Our youth group camped in the BWCA each summer through my growing up years and into the years when I was a leader myself. The last time I was there, I canoed in with this strapping new leader who ended up proposing to me (two months later – ACK!) on a youth group retreat.
Special place. I dream about it – literally – on the days when I’m overwhelmed with life’s demands.
Wow! Those pictures are absolutely stunning. My happy place is northern michigan. I’ve been going there in the summer my whole life and have fallen in love with the crystal clear water, the cherry orchards that line the country roads, the quaint bakery where the locals congregate and being there with family.
This is so great. I know places like this, and though it’s the river and not this beach, I will say that…
This Is Good!