week 14 // you are my wild

While we're no Denver or Indianapolis, as far as being landlocked goes, Atlantans are still pretty desperate for a bit of water by the time the weather teases us with 70º days and 60º nights.  And that time usually aligns itself with Spring Break.

My mom, dad, the girls, and myself took a little impromptu trip to the Barrier Islands last week.

I've always been intrigued by these cluster of islands off the small shore of Georgia.  Similar to neighboring islands of South Carolina and Florida, you can find:

exaggeratedly beautiful live oak trees, with limbs that dip in and out of the grass like sea mosters, dripping in moss and covered with lichen; whiffs of sulfer water- a smell that would be otherwise awful if not always associated (for me) with the ocean and vacations; dense forests of palmettos and palms; inland marshes so filled with wildlife you cannot help but wondering what would happen if you step foot in and sank into those murky grassy waters; fragments of mixed-era history scattered around in the forms of Spanish conquest forts, Civil War trenches, and the remains of Victorian Era hunting clubs and mansions (and the ghosts of the Vanderbilts, Morgons, Du Bigons, and other American royalty); beaches filled with the huge remains of oaks being beaten by wind and surf until they look like ancient ruins made of driftwood; wandering wild horses and brazen families of raccoons looking for grape handouts; the most picturesque sunsets that seem to last 10 times longer than your average sunset.

Short but very sweet.

(Take a look here at the others' week 14.  Pardon the fact that I'm so late with this week's post.  My brother is in town and we're having a grand ole time away from computers.)