Sunny Sunday

Yawn. Stretch. WFS brings my coffee to my sea watching spot. We both stare into the sparkling sun dancing on the low tide until WFS's belly began to growl. Our Sunday brunch was bagels, lox and cream cheese. Traveling in a vintage airstream garners lots of attention. Fellow campers wander in, how long you had it? Where did you get it? Are you from New Mexico?(front bumper) Are you from KY?( back bumper)... Then, where you been? Where you going? Time drifts away. I am eager to walk to the lighthouse, which can only be reached from the beach in lowtide.. The lighthouse is about a 3/4 mile trek along the shore. I repeat, only in lowtide. We have to get moving.
This very wild beach is Gullah country and for the most part, has been left to the natural wildness of the sea. Other than bird and turtle hatching protected areas, the park service isn't intrusive, at all. Several warnings say: Give alligators a wide berth. Thus, stick to the sea! We made it out to the lighthouse along the shore, climbed the 238 steps up
to the catwalk for a stunning view of the Atlantic Ocean, Harbor River and Fripp Island. The day was bright and sunny with views extending forty miles.
We walked through the hammock back to the seashore, where we found the most rewarding ice cream hut. A Ben & Jerry's ice cream sandwich eaten while the sun warms your back and the sea breeze cools your face..well, as the saying goes, priceless. You have to grab the moment, no?
While the tide was low, we hiked as far as we could go to the very edge of the river and the sea. Stop. Breathe deeply. Do not move.
Now, continue.
We decided to drive 16 miles into the historic town of Beaufort, SC. This is a lovely southern town and also very lively on Sunday afternoon. Perversely, I was seeking a Sunday NYTimes. Unsuccessfully. We did treat ourselves to fried grouper cheeks and Palmetto ale. You get good and greasy and wash it all away with beer. Oh, by the way, in the south, you lick your fingers!
We found Beaufort very southern and, hospitable. Do stop in, if you are ever lost between Charleston, SC and Savannah, GA.
A footnote:
the sunset over the marsh would take a small book to adequately describe. When I write my memoirs, I will include that indescribable sunset