Nomad Feet: Brookgreen Gardens

My daughter is currently on spring break and needed to get out of the house. So, we hit Brookgreen Gardens down on the the coast near Murrells Inlet, South Carolina. This sculpture is at the entrance of the gardens on Highway 17 and they do not make it easy to photograph. There is a sign at the front saying no parking and no stopping. Which makes sense because traffic is always heavy in that area. My daughter had to scramble around cars to get this shot.  

This is "Narcissus" by Adolph Alexander Weinman 1870-1952

We picked a near perfect day for our road trip. The temperature was around 70 degrees and the humidity was non-existent. The only slight problem was that Spring had only just begun to pop. Not much was in bloom and the staff was still getting things ready for summer. If you go to Brookgreen Gardens during the summer months drink a lot of water!

One of the biggest scams ever perpetrated by Disney films was to portray Zeus here as a loving family man happily married to his wife Hera. In the Disney animated movie Heracles they do just that and it's a laugh riot for anyone with a vague notion of his extramarital proclivities.  

A nice relaxing pathway.

One of the few flowers I saw in bloom. Sorry I don't know the species

I believe this sculpture is of Artemis.

Wise words.

A beautiful setting.

No trip down to the coast would be complete if I didn't stop and visit Pawleys Island. Got to admit, I was disappointed because there wasn't any breeze on the beach.

 

Nomad Feet: Botany Bay Plantation Heritage Preserve

Last Saturday, I escaped the suburban prison camp for a day trip down to the coast. When I left Columbia I didn't have a destination but halfway down to Charleston I decided to hit the Botany Bay Plantation Heritage Preserve. It was formed in the 1930's from the merger of Colonial-era Sea Cloud Plantation and Bleak Hall Plantation located on Edisto Island. The property went to the state in 1977 as a wildlife preserve and was opened to the public in 2008. The drive down was long, especially after arriving at the entrance. This picture is of the dirt road leading down to the beach area.

 

  

Once you arrive at the parking area, there is about a half-mile walk down to the beach. This causeway with the marsh on either side was beautiful. Another thing that made it paradise was the complete absence of human-made sound. The only thing I could hear was the sound of the surf, the rustle of the marsh and some birds. It was heaven, especially after what seemed to be countless months of political advertisement on the television. 

A section of the marsh. You can't see them but numerous hermit crabs were living out their lives in the mud.

First view of the beach. Unfortunately someone stepped into the frame. 

I arrived about an hour after the preserve opened and while I wasn't the first person there, the beach was mostly deserted. Being "undeveloped" the beach is littered with fallen trees.

I actually took a selfie where I was smiling but didn't include it because it would ruin my stern visage.

It was a beautiful day. The tide was near high tide and since this was my first visit, I didn't wander that far sense over concerns that I might get cut off by the incoming water.

All told, I was there about an hour and I was surprised how warm it got that morning.

As you might have noticed, there is a huge number of large shells on the beach. This is because of the $450 dollar fine if caught taking any off the beach. Instead, previous visitors seem to like to display them on some of the fallen trees. 

When I was a kid Pawleys Island had a similar number of shells on the beach. But that was way before it became such a well visited location. Tourists and resident kept taking home conch shells to the point it ruined the ecosystem. 

I took my time heading back to the car. More people began showing up and I didn't want my first impression ruined.

Could have sat at this spot for hours. When I do return I will bring a comfortable chair.

Another look at the marsh.

 

Tried to catch this conch shell against the ocean. The lighting was wrong so I didn't waste anymore effort. My camera isn't really the type for taking such difficult pictures. 

Final shot, another collection of shells bleaching in the sun. Botany Bay is one of the finest examples of South Carolina in its raw, unspoiled form. I usually don't speak highly of this state, but when it does things right you have to point it out. Wish I could saw the same about its politicians. Speaking of which, give them half a chance and they'll have this small piece of paradise carved up with condos on the beach and oil rigs drilling out in the water. 

Weekend at Disney's Hilton Head Island Resort

Explaining the existence of the Disney Hilton Head Island Resort is often a difficult thing. No, it's not a theme park, which is something that seems to cause a lot of confusion. Yes, it is a resort in the sense it has nice rooms to rest and activities to keep people amused and entertained. Then there are the "old folks" like me who just enjoy the quiet and solitude its location provides. Opened in the mid-90's, I believe Disney's idea was to open similar resorts across the country. There was even rumors that Mickey's handlers had their eyes on the old Myrtle Beach Air Force base property.

Per my usual habit I went to the resort's beach house to watch the sunrise last Saturday morning. Located a little over a mile away from the main resort, which is on the marsh, the beach house has its own pool and activities.

While both resort pools are heated to over eighty degrees, neither Dragonwife nor I decided to get wet last weekend. Saturday had a lot of bright sunshine but was quite cold. Our afternoon visit to the beach house was purely perfunctory, although had we been able to stay to Monday we would have attended the wine and cheese tasting the staff had scheduled there.  

Sunday was rainy but was no where near as cold. My other habit when we stay at DHHIR is to grab a cup of coffee in the lobby and go walking around the Shelter Cover Marina. You never know what you might see or hear around the yachts and sailboats. On one of those vessels that morning someone should have put out the watercraft version of "If this van is rocking, don't come a knocking." No, the vessel wasn't rocking but sounds carry over calm water.

Rainy weather didn't prevent me from attending the sunrise Sunday morning. But as usual, given that my wife and I had to go home just a few hours later I was feeling a bit melancholy. While cold weather limited the number of early morning beach walkers Saturday morning, the periodic heavy rains the next day gave me a totally empty beach as far as my eyes could see. My only company were a flock of seagulls and the disturbing thoughts that I sort of envied them. My reason being that they get to live on a beach while my big brain and opposable thumbs means I have to keep a job and live in a location I really don't like. Seagulls nasty reputation not withstanding, I think they're getting the better end of the existence bargain.

Last picture before my wife and I headed home. The pier stretching out into the march on the main resort property. Not all is lost, we're heading back to DHHIR sometime in July.

Just another day at the beach

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It was summer of 2006 and as far as the weather was concerned for a day at the beach on Pawleys Island it was perfect. The kids and I stepped off the crosswalk over the dunes to loose, hot sand heated by the mid-summer sun. With each step my feet would sink about an inch bringing an uncomfortable level of warmth to my bare feet. Despite living in Columbia, South Carolina for ten years I still considered myself a local and I wasn’t about to walk out on that sand wearing my sandals looking like some tourist. I gritted my teeth while carrying my small daughter, Miss Wiggles and wearing my backpack carrying our beach supplies. My son, Darth Spoilboy, could be heard behind me trying to put his sneakers back on after discovering how hot the sand was to his feet.

Looking above me, pristine white clouds floated by over head looking for all the world like giant whales on migration being pushed by the wind that also carried the strong scent of both life and death from the nearby marsh. The winds had whipped up the waves to a heavy froth sending up graceful splashes as the waves crashed into the shore.

Gulls soared and circled overhead squawking with each other making quick dives to the earth below to retrieve small bits of food and other trash left by the people sitting on the beach. One old gull, that looked tired of the relentless airborne squawking, was taking refuge on the ground nearby casting a critical eye on those humans already laid out on the beach as well as me and my brood. Choosing a spot on the beach we began trying to spread out our old blanket on the ground only to have the changing winds catch and twist it into some pretzel-like shape before falling to the sand. As if in response the old gull would spread his wings and flap them in disgust at our seeming ignorance of the proper way to do it. Only after shifting Miss Wiggles to riding on my back, after dropping the backpack to the ground, and having my son grab the opposite ends of the blanket I was holding were we able to spread the blanket out flat and even on the ground, tucking the corners and edges into the sand to prevent the wind from catching it. Our feathered companion squawked twice and flew off in disgust as we laid our belonging on the blanket, stripped off shirts and flip-flops, and walked toward the ocean.

My son ran ahead of my daughter and me eager to jump into the warm waters. Our trip down had been long with several bathroom stops for my daughter who had insisted on two bottles of chocolate milk along the way down to allow me to drive in peace. The stops tried my son’s patience and I let him dive into the water ahead of us to assert a small measure of independence allowing him to relieve some of the frustrations I knew he felt having to put up with a much younger sister.

“Don’t go any farther than chest deep!” I yelled out to him. At his age I was swimming a good distance out from the beach with the water way over my head. However, I had lived most my life along this beach and knew the hazards of this stretch of ocean, and what possible dangers lurked underneath. I felt a sudden and stinging disappointment that my son had missed out from growing up along these shores with only infrequent visits to a place that held so many good memories for me.

For my daughter as soon as we entered the water she started laughing in glee at how the waves would slap against daddy’s ample belly. She herself was as eager to get as deep as her brother but with Wiggles was not yet four years-old and small in stature, there was no way on God’s green earth I was about to loosen my grip on her. As I did my best to keep one eye on my son who had begun talking with a few boys playing nearby I would hold onto my daughter as we jumped in the water letting an incoming wave carry us over its crest. Each time she would squeal in delight as we landed in the wave's trough only to have another wave pick us up again to repeat the cycle. I yelled for my son to join us but his new friends and he were now watching a small group of surfers attempting to catch the small but unruly waves.

As I watched what had to be local high school kids trying to surf in the rough waters not one of them seemed to know what they were doing. The few that actually caught a wave enough to stand up immediately began trying to twist and maneuver their shortboards into various tricks that the wave had neither enough height nor energy to allow and which those earnest but inexperienced kids didn’t have the talent to accomplish. I found myself thinking back to my own antics riding these waves and how I must have looked during those times to the more experienced guys watching me try to catch similarly small waves but who were unable surf because they were taking care of their small children.

The late morning passed to afternoon and Miss Wiggles and I left the water to grab the small lunch stowed in my backpack lying on the blanket. Darth Spoilboy had left the water a little earlier and was now playing volleyball with his new friends, so I left him alone. Another disappointing aspect for me was that I could not spend more time with my son because my wife, as usual, did not come and someone had to be constantly with Wiggles. She was just too small to leave alone on the beach which left Spoilboy to seek out activities with others. At least he was enjoying himself and not moping in boredom like he had on previous trips.

After our small lunch, and feeling secure that Spoilboy was safe playing on the beach Wiggles and I drifted back to the water but instead of heading out in the waves we stayed very close to shore. As much as I felt bad about not spending more time with my son the very reason for my diligence with my daughter was about to present itself. Moreover, the most remarkable thing is that she was never more than two feet away from me and we were playing in water that most of the time came up to her waist.

The winds had died down a good bit as the afternoon progressed and the overly energetic waves were slowly calming down. Wiggles and I walked the shore line collecting shells and pieces of seaweed and soft coral floating in the water. The bright orange color of the coral fascinated my daughter and she would skitter across the water to grab any piece that caught her eye. As much as any parent I know it is impossible to totally and completely keep your eyes locked on your child at all times, even when they are near. However, it wasn’t me taking my eyes off my daughter that caused the scare that was about to fall on me but the fact that I didn’t occasionally glance up to keep an eye on what was going around me.

While the waves had calmed down considerably every once and a while the wind would pick up momentarily bringing them crashing back with close to the same energy. Wiggles was about two feet in front of me when what amounts to a rogue wave crashed into her bringing the water depth up above her head where mere seconds before it had been at her waist. The abruptness of the event totally befuddled my brain freezing me in place. My daughter was nowhere to be seen as if she had vanished from the earth. When I did regain my ability to move, leaping over to the spot she had been and reaching around for her in the swirling and very frothy water I could not find her. Making matters worse two more waves of the same energy and height came bounding across. To say I was in a panic would not be accurate; words can’t describe the mental state I had attained watching my daughter disappear before me. What was worse some calm part of my mind way back in the recesses was telling me that such energetic waves would receded almost as fast and as strong as they came in dragging whatever they caught back with them. Just as the water started to recede I saw a single leg emerge from the water sticking straight up. Being guided by parental reflexes and a higher power I snatched that leg like some mountain man might have snatched trout from a stream and yanked it up and out of the water. Attached to that leg was my daughter who came out not scared and crying but laughing and apparently enjoying the submerged tumbled she had been on.

She and I left the water with me still holding her upside down by the leg. We were completely out and on the wet sand before I gentle put her down so she could walk again. Not very much to my surprise she wanted to go back in but I vetoed that quickly and firmly. I was on my knees, feeling more than slightly sick to my stomach while holding my daughter in one place when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“I saw everything and you did a great job catching her.” A woman in a green bikini said looking down at me. “But it all happened in about four seconds”, she added. “If I hadn’t been looking right at you two I would have missed everything.”

“Four Seconds?” I said feeling more than slightly confused. For me the entire incident seemed like it had taken hours with both my heart and stomach exchanging places. Even then the anatomical re-exchange was still taking place and it was a real possibility that I might puke my recent peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the nice lady’s bare feet.

For my daughter, still clutching the piece of bright orange soft coral that she had been reaching for when the waves crashed on her, it was a none event. The green bikini lady, named Annette, walked with us up to the blanket still wanting to talk but as expected once she found out I was married quickly excused herself. I took some comfort to my returning brain function as I contemplated that I either needed to find my wedding ring, which I never wear for a whole host of reasons, or learn not to mention my marital status. As if in response the old gull that had disdainfully observed our arrival earlier was back and was squawking something that very much sounded like “dumbass” in my direction.

As Wiggles pulled out toys from my backpack to play in the sand I laid on the blanket trying to figure how the old gull was insulting me, I figure I earned it whatever way he meant it.

Doing the Disney and a few peaceful days next the ocean

Our first stop on our epic and long awaited journey was to Dragonwife's parents house to spend a couple of days with them. They don't see the kids all that often, at least not like my grandparents did with their grandkids, and Dragonwife and myself wanted to give them some time together. We hadn't spent thirty minutes at their house when my son, Darth Spoilboy, came running down from the computer room after talking with his girlfriend saying we had changed his mind yet again and would be staying with his grandparents while we went to Disney. The idea had been floated weeks before since he did not want to loose contact with his girlfriend and other buddies with school being out for the summer but after bending to Sith blackmail such as two bags of 90 count pizza rolls and five pints of Ben and Jerry's ice cream we thought he was going to come with us after all . I was more than slightly ticked to have him change his mind, especially after buying all that ice cream he would not share, but neither Dragonwife or myself wanted to force him to go since a whiny twelve year old would do his best to make the rest of us miserable. When we left the grandparents house he was sitting at the computer desk instant messaging his girlfriend, playing his guitar, and downloading more songs for his iPod completely happy. The one good point in his staying was that he and I would not fight over the two bags of Chips Ahoy cookies we were bringing for the trip.







After making it to Disney's Wilderness Lodge Miss Wiggles and myself went straight to the pool while Dragonwife relaxed reading a magazine on some bench in a nearby garden. The pool was crawling with bikini clad tennis and soccer moms and I spent a great deal of time floating around with Wiggles enjoying my surroundings. But my usual luck held out with those tennis and soccer moms bringing their husbands along for the trip. Whether there were any desperate housewives around the pool is unknown as well with Wiggles keeping me walking down the straight and narrow because whenever I did strike up a short conversation with a mom in the pool Wiggles would raise enough of a ruckus that ended whatever was being discussed pretty quick.
At some point she started playing with the three boys in the picture. At first the boys and Wiggles had no idea how to even play together and just circled each other for several minutes. The boys wanted to shoot imaginary guns and jump around the pool claiming they couldn't be hurt due to their protective force fields while Wiggles wanted to play a simply game of tag. After awhile they compromised with them playing tag with Wiggles trying to jump on top of them. The various parents involved and myself just watched seemly agreeing that as long as the pool stayed free of blood we would relax and let the kids play. The play did end when Wiggles started chasing the boys in the pool wanting a kiss from them which completely freaked them out sending out of the pool and back to their rooms. Who would have thought the a little girl wanting a kiss could defeat the massive forcefields of three little boys.




This is a photo of some little ornamental pond inside the resort. A better description is a sure-fire money making scam in that anywhere someone constructs one of these things people will give their children small change for them to throw in it and make a wish. One visit to Florida a couple of years ago we stopped at a small grocery store that had one of these small ponds inside but had clearly not taken care of it for quite awhile. But that didn't stop a father (no, not me) from giving his son a couple of coins to throw in the pond which was covered with pennys, nickels, dimes, and even many quarters at least a couple of inches deep. The biggest example of one of these wishing well ponds is Disney's "It's a small world" ride. You ride in some small boat viewing different stages that have puppets of children from around the world doing local dances. Several times Dragonwife and the kids have rode that ride to view the puppets and hear that damn song. I in turn looked in awe at all the money covering the floor of the indoor river we were on. I swear even though it was all small change if I have one night to clean the coins up I could rest easy knowing I could put my kids through a good college, it was that much. I've tried to get a good photo of all that coinage on the ride but never have been able to get one that shows how vast and deep the river floor is covered. I asked a park employee after getting off the ride and she said that every few months maintenance type vacuum the money up give it to Florida charities.






One Beach Bum and one Miss Wiggles at the pool on a beautiful day. We were one of the first people at the pool that morning. Miss Wiggles assured this by running into the room before sunrise and promptly jumped up and down on me several time making sure certain injuries to the lower portion of my body prevented me from going back to sleep. After I recovered she and I had a breakfast of sweet rolls and went to the pool were she again met the three little boys with forcefields and I again ogled the various bikini-clad moms. Right then I was breathing a small sigh of relief in that Dragonwife (who is taking the picture) did not freak out after learning that I had just paid eleven dollars for the Mickey Mouse swimming goggles Wiggles is wearing. Wiggles and I looked for the pair of goggles ( which cost two bucks back home) we brought with us all through her luggage but couldn't find them even though Dragonwife assured us she had packed them. We learned that Dragonwife had packed them in her small bag she had placed her tooth brush and other small items. The fact that I would have never looked in a million years in my wife's toiletry bag for a little girl's swimming goggles that should have been in Wiggles' luggage went straight over my wife's head.








I don't care how others might feel I'm secure enough in my manhood that I freely admit I had a hell of a good time riding the merry-go-round at the Magic Kingdom. All told we spent ten and a half hours at the Magic Kingdom that day. At least five hours of that time were in line letting Wiggles get pictures and autographs of Disney characters. My one disappointment was that the "Pirates of the Caribbean " ride was closed down for repairs. And I was told that Disney no longer has the character of Captain Jack Sparrow give autographs.















Animal Kingdom offers a pretty good mock safari that has the benefit of specially designed rough sections in the paved road to give the customers bruised rear-ends for that real roughing it in the wilds of Africa feeling. I will tell you that riders should keep a tight hold on their cameras as they view the animals. We have been to Disney a lot since joining Disney's Vacation Club timeshare and we are in on the secret that they use to let riders off the truck to recover their dropped cameras only to speed off leaving the befuddled tourist behind. The reason? The food bill for lions is huge and Disney started the program to defray some of the cost to keep the place going. Honestly who is going to miss a tourist or two? But never fear, the lions were getting far too much fat endangering their health and Disney stopped the program. But, now if you drop your camera it is simply lost since they will not stop the truck. Then again, I've heard rumors that if a tourist is especially obnoxious and has at least a decent body fat ratio they may just make an exception.











A near perfect picture of a giraffes ass end. Luckily I missed this dude dropping a load only moments before.
As I have noted several times Wiggles and I do Riverbanks Zoo close to home quite often and in doing so my daughter has soaked up a lot of information about various animals. Many have, with good points, criticized the very nature of animal theme parks and even zoos saying how unfair it is to the animals. I will say that the people who criticize the theme parks and zoos are generally very knowledgeable about nature and greatly care for it. But listening to the people around me at Animal Kingdom and during several of the visits to Seaworld I have been very surprised to hear how grossly ignorant Mr. And Mrs Middleclass can be on some of the most basic facts about the animals who we share a rapidly shrinking world being strained far beyond what it should. If these parks and zoos can educate a population that at times takes a great pride in ignorance that would send chills down George Orwell's spine if the man wasn't dead then these places provide a service to the planet and those who say they care about it.





I had a fairly decent picture of this rhino only to have this ostrich literally run into the shot at the last second. Female birds having a duller color as compared to their more flashy male counterparts somehow gave me the idea that this birdy wanted attention. So I named this attention hungry feathered freak "Brittany" in honor of the drugged out, missing pop diva Brittany Spears. I almost named the ostrich Anna Nicole Smith but figured that was too much of an insult to the poor bird. But after few minutes I felt bad even for naming it Brittany.












We were surprised to be one of the first groups allowed into the captive corporate and neocon Republican preserve allowing these cold hearted bastards and bitches to shrug off the outward human appearance and have their behavior and appearance match. The big guy on land we were told is one of the Cheney clan pursuing the fine family tradition of a deferment, this time in a natural setting, instead of actual service to the country in Iraq. But we were assured that the Bush and Romney clan members in the water were all discussing how to enter public service.










Many places in Animal Kingdom was simply beautiful offering lush surroundings that in themselves are worth the price to get in the park. I could have stayed in this spot all day just watching the water fall and the tropical fish in the water.




















I don't know what you would exactly call this plant/human hybrid and what it was doing walking around the park on stilts and almost erotically pole dancing at various places but it surely kept my attention. I really needed to post the second and more provocative picture but Blogger was being a bit of a pain that night and wouldn't let me. She has been at Animal Kingdom for at least three years now and draws a fair amount of attention all by herself.











Miss Wiggles getting her face painted. I am not looking forward to her teenage years for many reasons. From looking at that face and reading my posts about Miss Wiggles it shouldn't be hard to guess why.

















This is the spray pool at Disney's Vero Beach resort. If there hadn't been kids already playing or several lifeguards that would have gotten upset I would have moved my chair into the spray. As I watched Miss Wiggles the water coming from the area was quite cold and felt damn good.
















The huge national restaurant chains such as.... well you know them all have come damn close to driving local restaurants wherever they may be out of business. So on our last full day of vacation I was finally able to drag Dragonwife out of the resort to one of the local places I heard served locally caught seafood. I had no idea what the place looked like but once I saw it I fell about as in love somebody can with a building. Squid Lips looked just like many of the "arrogantly shabby" places that use to be open in the Pawleys Island and Murrells Inlet area before all the yuppies came south and converted everything to chic upper crust style that they preferred. One the many items I liked about it, beside the fantastic food, was how it was over the water of Indian River lagoon. Our table viewed out toward the lagoon that was dotted with many tiny islands that gave it an almost South Pacific feel. Looking out I saw people fishing, casting small shrimp nets into the water that many people use to do at Pawleys to catch their evening meal. Dragonwife was somewhat taken aback due to the looks of the place, it just wasn't clean enough for her at first and I admit she carries a huge strain of yuppy-dom wanting things that meet her chic gourmet standards. But with the evening breeze blowing in from the lagoon and the live band playing some great songs even she relaxed and got in a good mood. All told the Vero Beach area still hasn't been completely Borg-like assimilated the way most of the southeast coastal area has with McMansions raising property taxes to the point it forces locals to move inland and mushroom like condos that pop up to the point that any view of the water is restricted to "residents and guests only". Signs that its coming were there but that evening as I soaked up the atmosphere of the place I prayed to God that when it comes time for me to up and find my small piece of paradise for my retirement years I can again find something similar to what I found that night.







On a lighter note as I was enjoying the best grouper sandwich I had in a very long time I looked out toward the lagoon and saw this red sailboat. Now I've seen plenty of sailboats and while this one did have the strong get-the-hell-out-of-dodge appeal and leave the crappy world behind as Buffett plays on the stereo it drew no more than an envious casual glance. That was until at some point I saw what looked to be a drop dead gorgeous dark haired very naked lady come out of the cabin. She appeared to adjust something about the windmill on the stern then jumped back in the cabin disappearing from view. My grouper sandwich almost fell to the floor as I tried to pull out my camera hoping the lady of my dreams would appear again on a sailboat that I suddenly had a huge urge to know more about. Many shots later and after Dragonwife began to wonder that I had lost my one mental marble I gave up and settled for just another hopeless but erotic fantasy.






Another view of the lagoon with a couple of the small islands in the distance. Wanted a better shot but Wiggles gave every sign of wanting to jump in the water that was swarming with catfish, yes catfish, living off the scraps of food tossed by kids and a few adults.

















I don't want to go and get all spiritual, its just not my style but in the quiet of the evening or early in the morning every time I walk on an empty beach I feel somehow closer to God. I'm not talking about some abstract notion of being next to something far larger than myself although the ocean does act as a conduit at times for the "feeling". But an actual presence that at very difficult times in my life has helped me to carry on and at least cope with what was happening. I claim no special VIP pass with the Almighty and from a rational viewpoint I realize I may be crazy but I'm just reporting something that hits me from time to time and carries far more weight than I can describe. Although I am often reminded of the saying that God looks after children, fools, and the United States of America.







Like all good things time and the money ran out forcing us to drive back up north, claim Darth Spoilboy from his grandparents; I swear I found him in the exact seat and position as we left him in front of the computer playing his guitar as he was exchanging Instant Messages with his girlfriend. We drove back home the next morning after my butt absolutely refused to get back in the car and drive given how sore it was. I came away from this vacation knowing that at some point in my life just for my mental health I will have to move back closer to the coast. But at the moment this photo was taken I was in heaven with warm sand between my toes.