Back in the flat lands of Georgia, I couldn’t help but feel slightly at home– in a deep familiarity type of way.  Something of the smell, the feeling, the unseen vibrations took me back to my past- since once upon a time growing up, Georgia was the only place I knew.

Stopping into a grocery store for (healthy) snacks and beer (of course) to bring back to the camp site, the flowers and plants displayed out front reminded me of my childhood.

I was here for the beach — the sun, the sand & salt water of Tybee Island, and Savannah just happened to be a convenient distraction along the way.

I stayed in a state park south of Savannah.  It was surrounded by water, and driving in the sunset across the backdrop was simply gorgeous.  It always feels good to be by the water.

Once evening set in, there were lots of deer.  They were small and their eyes were watchful & intent.  They grazed in the early dark of night peacefully.

 

 

 

Views of the marshy fields in the morning – how I imagine parts of the African savannah must look, and also reminded me of the slowly creeping “sea of grass” in Florida, aka the Everglades.

 

 

 

On the way to the beach, driving down the streets of Savannah– while on one particular blvd, I thought, “take that Beverly Hills.

Sure you got your fancy tall skinny palm trees, and they are sooo beautiful.  But you ain’t got moss.  This amazing canopy of trees.  Old beautiful reaching oak trees, draped with veils of Spanish moss.”

Unfortunately, I don’t feel these through-the-windshield shots do the scenes as much justice as I would like and as is deserved, but they do give you at least an idea of the unique southern tropical beauty.

 

 

 

Here are a couple black & whites I took a few years ago during another Savannah visit that capture other angles of the tree-lined streets & sidewalks.

 

 

 

Back to the aim of my trip – beach escape.

This is always a good view, because you know the beach is just ahead….

 

The first views of the beach are always wonderful.

 

 

 

The last day there my friend & I witnessed a purse snatching while we were leaving the beach– well, not the snatching itself, but the thief hauling away from the scene, running running like no other-like a mad man across the sand, feet pounding over the boardwalk that crossed the dunes.

Three boys ran fast behind him in pursuit, but delayed, surely too delayed to actually catch him.

“Did that guy take your stuff?!” my friend called to them.

“Yeah!” they yelled back, “HELP US!”

Immediately he threw his backpack down to the sand to join their gang and took off running behind them.

But he stopped shortly after.

“I can’t catch him,” he said with a sigh, knowing it was a losing battle and that sadly, the thief had already won.

The teenage girl whose things had been stolen jogged half-heartedly across the sand, seemingly also aware her stuff was gone forever.

I remembered when my wallet was stolen on the metro in Greece and the fight I put up to get it back– to no avail.  That angry, defeated, helpless feeling.  I remembered the people on the metro smiling and snickering when I cried out in panic, when I started questioning and yelling at the thief, digging at him for my wallet back.  And I felt how could I or anyone ever laugh at this girl in this moment? – instead I felt empathy.

With morals & rationale on my side, I couldn’t help but wonder: what could the thief have possibly gained worth ruining this girl’s beach day? Other than an adrenaline rush (which was possibly highest on the list), maybe a little cash, some credit cards (which are sure to be quickly alerted), an unusable driver’s license, and a mobile phone? Well, I guess for a thief, that’s enough.

 

Back to Savannah:

We left the beach just in time before a quick late afternoon shower.  After stopping into a veg-friendly eatery (The Sentient Bean [such a cute & clever name!] for a snack) and a local brewery (Moon River Brewing for a Swamp Fox IPA) it was time for a customary stroll by the Savannah River.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Driving away over across the bridge that crosses the river on the last evening of the weekend mini escape, I was able to get one last glimpse of the city.

 

 

 

Au revoir Savannah, until next time.

 

Let me know in the comments: have you been to Tybee Island or Savannah before? If so, what were your impressions?