Landing in Low Country, where it’s normal to be below sea level in most places, at any given time, is in sharp contrast to the heights of the Summit. After a 850 mile road trip, it was a rather abrupt “bump,” if not a gentle crash into life without a schedule, the solitude of anonymity and dilemma of personal reinvention. Life took control and we hopped the unexpected wave, ready or not. Three weeks in, I’m seeing why it’s worth it.
The metaphor of being underwater is tempting in the wake of daunting feelings of loss and doubt. But I prefer to refer to the broad view of forest, marsh and ocean to signify unbound potential. The deep breath of nature, above and beyond, drums a calming rhythm that is gradually quelling my northern hiccups. The girth of 300 year old oaks, their chandeliers of Spanish moss decorate nature’s banquet. Bug and beast abound – the gnat and gator, and multitudes between speak big messages of note.