Beaufort Ghost Tour

On our way to Beaufort, we couldn't resist stopping for this photo op at the Gay Fish Co. in Port Royal.




Have mercy! This Southern Belle is draped over the porch railing of the oldest home in Beaufort, SC. This is just one of the ghostly residents portrayed on the annual Ghost Tour. We traveled by horse-drawn carriage beneath ancient live oak trees dripping with Spanish moss. As daylight turned to dusk all manner of creatures greeted us with their tales of whoa and sorrow.



Unfortunately, we weren't allowed entrance to any of the stately homes on the tour. At the pace our horse took, we had ample opportunity to peak in the windows!

Many of the homes were for sale. Word to the wise, the annual upkeep would soon surpass the purchase price, so make sure your pockets are very, very deep and full of coin.

Dataw Island Treasures

An unimposing sign read "Dataw Island" with an arrow pointing right. Linda and I looked at each other and said, "I'm game!" so down the road we turned not knowing we'd stumble upon a treasure trove, one discovered by Spanish explorers in 1514.

Here, you see one of the many winged inhabitants, a Great Egret. Sir Bird was wading casually through the marsh grass shopping for a snack. He turned his magnificent head my direction as I craned my body out the car window to get a good shot.




Linda drove slowly keeping pace with Sir Bird, who did not take kindly to our attention. He unfolded those massive wings and swooped over the top of the marsh grass. I swear he looked back at me with a "get thee far, far away" look in his eye.




Much of Dataw Island is now a posh, gated golf community complete with a manned guard house at the entrance. I've never been deterred by gates or no-trespassing signs, especially if something on the other side has caught my eye. Linda brought the car to a stop and the guard eyed us warily, asking the nature of our business. Before I could open my mouth, Linda told her we were considering having dinner in their upscale restaurant at the Club House and would like to take a look before we made up our mind. Ha, 'atta girl!

The development is pretty much what you'd expect, clean streets, manicured lawns, cookie cutter architecture and shiny cars. Except, as we passed the golf course, the ruin of a building caught my eye. "Turn in here!" I exclaimed.

We couldn't believe our luck, the ruins of Williams Sams' 1786 cotton plantation, constructed of tabby, a unique material made by burning oyster shells to extract lime, then mixed with sand and shells and shaped into wooden molds to form walls and columns. The enormous fireplace casts a long shadow on the leaves which litter the floor of the cook house.

The remains of the Sams family rest under the far-reaching, Spanish-Moss-draped arms of a live oak tree. Seems a fitting and peaceful place to spend eternity.

La La Knee and 167 Steps!

The lighthouse on Hunting Island State Park stands 132 feet above ground. Originally built in 1859, the Confederate Army destroyed it to prevent the Union Army from navigating by its beacon in the night. Luckily, the lighthouse was rebuilt in 1879 and has witnessed a much greater enemy, erosion.

A modified spiral staircase of 167 steps is the only means to get to the top and experience a 360 view of the horizon. Although briefly hesitant to take that first step, the Lovely Linda, me and LaLa Knee started the climb and holy cow was it worth it!

From the observation platform looking north, we towered over the tops of the maritime forest and the Atlantic Ocean. Although a windy day, the ocean was serene, not the cacophonous and moody Atlantic I know from New Hampshire, Maine and Massachusetts.

The Lovely Linda looks a little nervous, wouldn't you say? After we made it safely back to Terra firma, someone stopped us to ask if it was a difficult climb to the top. I assured him that if I, a middle-aged and rotund wielder of one artificial knee could do it, he certainly could too!

Tomorrow: Faking your way through security and stumbling upon the ruins of an old plantation!

In Need of the Horizon

For weeks, the muscles across my chest and shoulders have been tight and I've not been able to breathe deeply. I've come to understand that this tightness is not an illness (of the medical variety) but of the spirit. A physical prompt to let me know it's time to seek the landscape which feeds my soul, clears my mind, loosens muscles and lets me breathe deeply. That landscape is the horizon. To be surrounded by uninterrupted sky meeting land without a single object stopping the eye is for me, soul food.

Lucky for me, the Lovely Linda planned a belated birthday trip to the South Carolina Low Country. For the uninitiated, like me, the "Low Country" is a string of barrier and sea islands from Charleston to Savannah. Topographically, what this area offers are wide and uninterrupted views of golden marshes that march right down to the Atlantic Ocean. The perfect setup for horizon-gazing. In other words, heaven.

At the end of a boardwalk stretching deep into the marshes on Hunting Island is this view. The marsh grass (Spartina alterniflora) reminds me of mature fields of rice ready for harvest. And look at that horizon! I said out loud, "Who could not love this view?" to which Linda replied, "When you look at the horizon, you see endless possibilities, but someone else may look at it and see emptiness." As I stood there transfixed, the muscles across my chest and shoulders began to loosen. I took in a deep breath and let out a long sigh and again stood in the presence of a vast horizon.

As the sun rose higher in the sky an interesting thing occurred. Looking out over the marsh, the air just above the tops of the grass appeared blurry and the color of the light was golden, almost mirage-like. I was lucky enough to get this picture, which saw what my eyes saw.

The backdrop in this photo is the edge of a maritime forest that grows all the way to the ocean. Semi-tropical in nature, the predominant trees are pine and palmetto.

Spartina alterniflora up close. When first taking this picture, I thought those were seeds, but now I'm not so sure. One of the naturalists we met along the way told us that as the tide rises, snails and other creatures climb the stalk until the tide ebbs, and then feeds again in the nutrient-rich pluff mud.

Hmm...

Tomorrow...Day Two...We climb a lighthouse!

Bells Bend Bliss

Red morning glory atop soon-to-be unfurled goldenrod

dueling hummingbirds against a morning-glory-blue sky

Hunkered Down

Miss Mocha hunkered down with her new toy, the Ant Eater. It has a wonderful squeaker that has a voice like Lauren Bacall. Fun times are ahead in 2010 for the Brown One.

The Horizon

The Texas horizon allows me to breathe deep, my shoulders to relax, my mind to wander. When a trip home and a steady diet of flat land, long-reaching horizons and sapphire sky aren't possible, then the views from atop Skyuka Mountain serve as an hors d'oeuvre.

Winter is best for horizon-seeking on Skyuka Mountain. In other seasons, the dense growth of hardwoods and their foliage create an effective screen, blocking the magnificent views. And they are magnificent, especially atop the lookout rock which gives you a 180 degree view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Newly fallen snow, high gusting winds and bitter cold didn't allow for any rock sitting to drink in the horizon, but here are a few photos, reminders that a clear horizon is always in sight, offering limitless possibilities.

Carolina Wrens

Carolina Wrens are known for their antics and big voices, disproportionate to their tiny bodies. I love to watch them year round, but especially during nesting season. A pair of wrens built a nest above the porch light this year and raised their family right before my uplifted eyes.

This year the fledglings didn't want to venture far from the nest so each night, they perched as close to the nest as possible. A most precious sight to see four little wren bodies lined up like soldiers sleeping contently. As they grew, so did their trademark beaks. They could no longer face forward when sleeping, so cleverly turned their heads...little birdies in profile.

As often as possible, I'd invite guests of the Retreat Center to peak at them as they dozed.

Cute is meant to be shared.

A Surprise

On Thanksgiving, neighbor Kathryn and I walked at Radnor Lake. It was a cold, blustery morning with a sky threatening rain, but we were not deterred. Fallen leaves no longer held any autumnal crunch after weeks of rain, but flocks of Canadian geese on the lake lent a picturesque quality to an already bucolic setting.

We chose the Spillway Trail which meanders through the woods, across the spillway and dam, then leads you along the edge of a ravine as you make your way back to the Visitor's Center.

The vivid colors of fall have long passed in Middle Tennessee, so I was delighted and surprised when a lone ray of sun lit up this small tree wearing it's hot pink leaves. This is not a color I've come to expect in the fall palette but there it stood in its unapologetic glory, a neon sign from Mother Nature.

Hoarfrost!

A wet fall and bitterly cold temperatures have resulted in spectacular hoarfrost events over the past few weeks. It's hard to describe and even harder to photograph, but here's my latest attempt at capturing the magical explosion of white ribbon candy along meadow edges and road sides. Enjoy.

The Cathedral Basilica of Saint Louis

41.5 million pieces of tesserae were used to create 83,000 square feet of mosaic in The Cathedral Basilica of Saint Louis. Spanning 75 years, three generations of artisans shaped the images depicting faith, history, art and architecture.

Recently, the Lovely Linda and I traveled to St. Louis to celebrate the 25th anniversary of dear, dear friends Larry and John. On our way to the Saint Louis Art Museum, we turned into the parking lot at the Cathedral, "just to stop for a minute and take quick look."

Ha!

This is not a space entered into casually or briefly. When the heavy oak doors whispered shut and our eyes adjusted to the natural light, we gasped in disbelief. Soaring overhead, inlaid under our feet, on virtually every vertical and horizontal surface, mosaic.

As we silently moved into the body of the cathedral, we were cloaked in awe. Not knowing which way to turn or where to look first, we wandered without direction.

Shortly after arriving, we realized a private mass was being held in the Blessed Sacrament chapel. The priest's voice was barely audible, but when the nuns began to sing, I collapsed into a pew and held my breath. Yes, their voices and harmonies were beautiful, but the notes seemed to be tinged in gold, glinting off tiny pieces of tesserae over their heads.

It felt a violation of the sacred to take photographs, so I took very few. Although these hardly begin to capture the grandeur of the Cathedral, they do speak to the intimacy of the moment.

You can see/learn more by checking out their website.

Let Them Eat Cake!

My love for tchotchkes has been rekindled by neighbors Joanne and Kathryn. As a thank you for taking care of Mr. Zito, they gifted me with this:

The Marie Antionette Action Figure, with ejectable head!

Whether in her queenly robes or various states of undress she is, in a word, D-I-V-I-N-E.

And don't knock the educational qualities of the blisterboard on which she was packaged. Every inch is filled with fun facts about the beheaded queen (her weapon of choice: cleavage) and bonus guillotine facts, my favorite of which is #8, "It is believed that a victim can remain conscious for up to thirty seconds after decapitation." Yikes!

Thanks neighbors...who needs a stinkin' Barbie Doll?!?

Clematis Viorna

Say good morning to Clematis Viorna aka the Leather Flower.

This sweet, nodding flower greeted us on the trail as we walked into the woods this morning. Isn't it lovely? A native vine, it's scarce in the lower mountains and I've never seen/noticed it at Penuel Ridge before today. It looks as if fairies might live inside its bell-shaped mouth.

Home Again...Home Again

Day 4

Celebration Day

Ouch! Driving a stick shift on Day 3 took a toll on my knee. It was a tough night that pain meds barely touched. When I woke up the morning of Day 4, it wasn't much better.

Leanne had risen early to retrieve Venus and Emma, so it was puppy love all around once they hit the door. Emma is a chocolate lab that's a month younger than Miss Mocha. Thank goodness they were playmates as puppies. I don't think anything chewable would have survived in either of our households had we not had regular play dates with the two of them. Venus is the latest addition to the family and she is a sweetheart, full of play and kisses. Neither dog minded I was piled up on the couch with a pillow under my knee. It gave them easy access for petting and snuggling and that's just good medicine in my book.

We spent a leisurely morning with the newlyweds, hearing more stories about their trip to Niagara Falls and catching up on life since the last trip to the Lone Star State. Soon other friends would be arriving for the celebration and I knew this quiet morning was a gift to be cherished.




The Lovely Linda and I ventured out to run errands and either the meds or the heat and humidity hit me half way through. I broke out in a cold sweat and thought I was going to be sick. We finished up quickly and I went straight to bed for what I hoped would be a restorative nap. This was too important a day to be less than 100%. The nap worked and I awoke refreshed and ready to resume the festivities.

By early evening, we were driving on the Old Galveston Highway to the restaurant where 60 of Holly and Leanne's closest friends and family were gathering to celebrate and bless their union.

***Pausing for a little rant***

It is ludicrous that two people who love each other have to go to another state or country to get legally married. Suffice it to say those who filled the tables that night felt the same way I do...that love is love, this world needs more of it and it's a violation of a person's civil rights not to be able to legally wed and receive the benefits of such a union. One day this will change. And when it does, we will sing a song of emancipation so beautiful the ivory towers built on myopia, hatred, fear and self-righteousness will simply crumble.

***Rant concluded***

Like any wedding reception, this celebration dinner served as an important bridge between family and friends. A humorous, but heartwarming speech by Leanne's sister had us all laughing through tears. This was an "official" welcoming of Holly into Leanne's family and I can tell they treasure and love her as much as her biological and chosen family do. Likewise, Holly's father gave a short but powerful blessing for the couple. Here's a sweet photo of them dancing:

Friend after friend stood up to celebrate the wedding of Leanne and Holly with raised glasses and happy hearts. They have a strong foundation of love and support from family and friends that will help sustain a long and happy life together. I had the pleasure of sitting next to Holly's father and we spent a large part of the evening in conversation. A former major league ball player, I wasn't sure we'd have much in common, but we're both talkers and sure enough we hit it off and I even talked baseball with him. [For those of you who know me, you may now pick yourself and your jaw off the floor.]

The meal was divine and the spirits flowed and as I look back, a poem has risen from my spirit to yours...

To Holly and Leanne,
Leanne and Holly,
your life of wedded union begins
surrounded by your love
surrounded by our love.

There is no force sweeter,
greater or wiser.
There is no force more forgiving,
patient or skin-tingling.
There is no force
more powerful than love.

It is alpha, it is omega,
it is worthy to stand wedded
before those who walked with you,
at times carried you
to this place.

On this day,
and a lifetime of tomorrows,
we celebrate and honor you
as Holly and Leanne,
Leanne and Holly,
on this blessed wedding day.

Day 5

Ride along with us tomorrow on our trip to Galveston

Home Again...Home Again

Day 2

After a 12+ hour car drive the day before, we awoke (in Texas) to a morning filled with gentle, cool breezes bird song, blue skies and the possibility of coconut cake for breakfast!

Mom was up first and it was the sound of her tidying the living room that woke me. It got suddenly quiet, so I knew she'd slipped outside were I'd find her tending to her plants. The woman never sits still.

I switched on the coffee pot as I walked through the kitchen and headed for the deck. I couldn't wait to see the view and get a good morning hug from Mom. She is a champion hugger, as was my grandma, and I wasn't going to miss a single one since we'd be at her place less than 24 hours. The view was spectacular as the level of the lake was up from the spring rains and the new owners of the marina had done some long-overdue improvements to the shoreline.

On my second cup of coffee, I heard the Lovely Linda stirring, so went to wish her a good morning. Once she downed her first cup of coffee, we went for a walk around the Marina so she could get a sense of the place. Dropped deep in the thickest part of the Piney Woods at the tip of a peninsula on the Toledo Bend Reservoir, it's a sight to see, with the juxtaposition of deep green forest growing to the shore of a sparkling lake and a variety of water and shore birds to hold any bird watcher's interest. Oh, and there's the fishing.

Photo courtesy of www.toledo-bend.com

This is an aerial shot of Texas Island in the Toledo Bend Reservoir, which runs north to south along the Texas/Louisiana border.

After a leisurely breakfast on the deck, the Lovely Linda was ready to see more, so we hopped in the Mom bus (her beloved Suburban) and headed to Hemphill for an up close and personal look at a small East Texas town dependent upon the timber industry and tourism for survival.

The drive over the the bridge to Six Mile was spectacular with the morning sun creating ripples of silver on the water. The horizon I so deeply missed was before me and my minds eye drank it in. I have to have ready recall of the expanse of the Texas horizon during Tennessee summers, where I can only see as far as the edge of the yard.

There original town square, complete with courthouse was a great place to start on our "tour". We found a parking space under the shade of a pecan tree and headed straight to jail...the Sabine County Jail, which is now a museum and library. One of the few "hanging jails" in the nation, it's been restored by the local historical society and gives one pause to reflect on the wisdom of capital punishment, exacted at the end of noose.

After a sobering visit to jail, we toured the courthouse and saw the handy work of a prisoner who was in for a long stint. Seems he passed the time using his skills in woodworking, building and restoring the banisters, benches, desks and jury box of the courtroom.

No trip to a small Texas town would be complete without a stop in the local feed store. There, we were greeted by the cheep, cheeps of chicks and ducklings and some curious kittens. A little more driving around town, looking at turn-of-the-century homes in varying stages of restoration (or tumbling down) and it was back on the road to Mom's and lunch.

On the way back, we stopped in at Mom's church (Oak Hill Baptist Church). This is a one room church set deep in the woods with an adjoining cemetery where my step dad Bill is buried. A bit of sadness fell around me, thinking of him out there under six feet of red clay soil, but I couldn't bring myself to walk over to his grave site. I think Mom sensed my mood and quickly diverted my attention to the air-conditioned portable building the church moved in next to the sanctuary to house all of her decorating supplies. Mom's in charge of decorating the church on Sundays and holidays. She needs a lot of working space for all her stuff.

Back at the marina, we prepared for a late afternoon lunch on the deck. It was a feast and gave us the energy we'd need to make the drive to Houston.

One of the highlights (besides the coconut cake) was the spotting of a male summer tanager taking an afternoon bath. I wasn't quick enough to grab the camera, but here's a photo I found on the internet:

What a handsome bird!

All too soon, the car was packed and pointed in a southwesterly direction to Houston. Arriving well past dark, we fell into bed to sleep off the road fatigue and prepare ourselves for the friends, celebrations and adventures to come.

Day 3

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment...a trip back to my youth.

Home Again...Home Again

The road led to Texas and back again.

Along the way, the Universe threw in a few speed bumps so we'd slow down and get a chance to appreciate what was outside the car window.

Day One
A hearty breakfast at the Loveless Cafe to fortify us for the long drive. Those folks know how to bake a biscuit.



Creeping along I-40 for an hour gave us a chance to roll down the windows, feel the morning air on our skin, smell freshly mown grass and take in the beauty of wildflowers along the interstate. So thanks to an overturned 18-wheeler, we drank in what we'd have missed at 70 mph.

A detour through Memphis - The Lovely Linda and I were talking and missed the exit to Little Rock, so a little navigating by the seat of our pants led us to the river, through Downtown and back to the interstate. Saw some beautiful homes and found our way west, despite some bad directions from a local.


At the apex of the bridge spanning the Mississippi River, we could see it was out of its banks in a large way. In fact, it was lapping up against the levee, several miles out of town. As many times as I've driven this stretch of road, I didn't realize there was a levee until we saw it in action.

I was eagerly anticipating the drive from Memphis to Little Rock. The interstate dissects fields of rich farmland growing rice. Yes rice, the crop that sustained my family and my childhood community for generations. Once abundant in Texas, they are now a rare sight, so driving through Arkansas is a joy for me. My sense memories are engaged and this flat farmland begins to whisper of the horizon of my youth.

As I began looking left and right for the finely sculpted fields of curving levees and a sea of deep green rice stalks, I was accosted with the image of empty fields...miles and miles of empty fields. Not fallow, but laid waste by water. The few farmers who managed to get a crop planted before the rains of April and May were rewarded with anemic plants and splotches of growth and bare places where water had redistributed seed.

The building anticipation I normally feel as the Texas border draws near was dampened by the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach for the farmers and their families, knowing full well the devastation they were facing. All I could do was shake my head as barren fields, blurred by tears, streamed past the car window.

Near Arkadelphia, we picked up the signal for an NPR station. Soon we heard a news report that Arkansas Governor Mike Bebe had just petitioned the Federal Agriculture Department to provide emergency loans to farmers in 24 Arkansas counties. I don't think either of us had any idea how bad things were for our neighbors to the west.

The Piney Woods - after a pit stop in Texarkana for dinner, we drove across the Texas state line (with my customary woo-hoo out the window) and into the Piney Woods of East Texas. A few more hours and we'd be pulling into Mom's place at Paradise Point Park and Marina, on the Toledo Bend Reservoir. The thought of a soft bed after 12 + hours on the road was very appealing, but so was a big hug from Mom and a piece of coconut cake!

The Lovely Linda got a chance to appreciate a full-on Texas sky glittering with stars. As we drove a two lane deserted road through the Sabine National Forest, she switched off the car's headlights and drove by moon and star light. Magical!

Even though I'd called ahead and told her we'd crash together in the guest room, she had her own ideas about sleeping arrangements...the Lovely Linda on one end of the house, me on the other and her in the middle on the sleeper sofa! We chuckled softly under our breath and headed for a good night's sleep. Who knew what we were in store for tomorrow...

Day Two

Kindly come back tomorrow for the next installment, which will include a trip to the Sabine County Jail!

My Big Sister

This is my big sister and me looking cute. We're all grown up now, but when I visit her, we sit side-by-side on her front porch talking, drinking something cool and sometimes holding hands.

She had surgery today and is in recovery. The doctor said everything went well and she's going to be fine. It's a long way from Texas to Tennessee and it feels ever longer today. I hope she knows I'm sitting on the porch, waiting for her to come home.

Cotton Candy

This ornamental cherry tree is a symphony of pink in the front yard at Penuel Ridge. I'd hoped to catch it in the morning sun, when soft golden rays highlight the varying hues of pink. But alas, it's been overcast and stormy throughout the day, so use your imagination. Oh and while you're at it, imagine 1,000 bees swarming above my head as I took these photographs. They weren't the least bit interested in me what with a cotton candy tree in full bloom.