Springtime in the South

I’ve said it before, but there’s just something in the sun & sand that’s a little bit magic. Maybe it’s in the sparkle of the waves, shining out of the glittering powder beneath my feet. Perhaps it’s spells, whispered in the wind, or stretching out from the sun, warm fingers from healing hands.

Whatever it is, I’m glad I got a taste of it last week. You may have noticed my absence from the Internet — there’s just something about nature that alleviates the necessity of constant stimulation and entertainment. In fact, it does much the opposite: For me, being at the beach makes the thought of opening up my laptop unbearable. Maybe it’s something to do with really living — when life is this good, this natural and real, the artificial aspect of our lives lived online, our cyber selves, is obvious, unpalatable.

Luckily for the blog, I’m not likely to ever afford a beach house of my own, and as of this week, am back in Tennessee and back on the blog for the long haul, freckles & sun-tanned skin a souvenir of spring break spent in Charleston.

I decided to bring along my roommates from my first two years of school, four girls who made up my first sort of family here in Tennessee. It was a reunion and a rejuvenation. It was perfect.

We were up with the sun & out in it as much as was possible. We toured, strolled, swam, raced & ate our way through the city — swallowed it whole . I taught the Tennesseans about sweetgrass & Spanish moss, gave them their first taste of shrimp & grits, their first glimpse of a line of (several) hundred-year-old oaks.  They gave me grace, lots of love & so many laughs.

Spring break 2012, you were good to me.