Wednesday, July 7, 2010

One more Wednesday.. I have words to say!

"If you must speak ill of another, do not speak it, write it in the sand near the water's edge."
~ Napoleon Hill

"Rivers, ponds, lakes and streams - they all have different names, but they all contain water. Just as religions do - they all contain truths." ~ Muhammad Ali

"My books are like water; those of the great geniuses are wine. Fortunately, everybody drinks water." ~ Mark Twain

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At the Water's edge... Watery Wednesday!
I had heard so many wonderful things about a place called Botany Bay.. A gift to the State of South Carolina it was once three separate cotton plantations.. This acreage also shelters many rare plants and animals.. and has some interesting historical sights... even though the remains of the old buildings and wells have been fenced.. to keep would be collectors from toting them away one piece at the time.. We still decided late in the day to make the long trip down to the coast to check it out for ourselves.. I was ready to wet my

feet with some salty waves.. This proud fellow was wading in one of the creeks we crossed over on our way to the parking area in the woods.. We also passed fields of giant sunflowers and tall corn stalks.. reaching upwards.. basking beautifully in the hot July sun.. It was somewhere around these corn stalks that I remembered that I had brought nothing cool and wet with me.. water water everywhere and not a drop to drink!

I expected a deserted two mile stretch of beach....
These ladies as well as others were all waiting for us when we got there.. we were a little surprised at the number of cars parked in neat lines deep in the woods.. I could smell the ocean but all I could see were huge lob lolly pines.. we still had a trek across the marsh to reach the sea.. The guard who signed us in said we had a half mile walk....On the beach there were a few people already there.. they were surfing and splashing... flying kites... and building castles .... walking and fishing... .. a few more people than I had hoped for..
but the water was gorgeous.. the shells were something else to see... the entire beach was littered with shells.. they have a rule that NO ONE takes a single shell from here.. I have a deep feeling that every once in a while one sneaks out.. What do you think?

Dave took a fast dip.. complaining of the million and three shells underfoot.. "even way out there!" he said shaking his fist at the water.. and then he sat beside me on a rock and read

over the map.... then he wrote notes in the sand as I read over the map... We traipsed back the half mile to the car after a while and on through the woods to look at chimneys and house ruins and old wells.. Even though not quiet what I expected.. I enjoyed my visit to Botany Bay.. Next time I will pack a bag lunch and maybe take a crowd..let everyone carry in there own food and then we will race to see who can look at everything the fastest... I will plan for a longer stay and I will absolutely take bottled water!! Have a wonderful watery Wednesday!
Patsy



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Sepia Scenes... Sepia Photo's .. ruins of plantation house and the chimney of a slave cabin..
Both protected sights located at Botany Bay~ Edisto Island.. South Carolina!

All that is left of a fancy plantation house!


.... can you imagine how life in this tiny slaves cabin revolved around this chimney.. they would have warmed themselves and cooked meals .. hung damp clothes to dry.... and almost everything else.. gathered around this central chimney..
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Three Word Wednesday.. Each week they post three words.. Some of us do our very best to write something worth reading with them.. The words for this week are.. bane- acrid- tepid

What's Your Poison?

an acrid swill of wolf's bane
vigorously stirred into tepid lime sweet tea...
tearfully in black stands me..


Written By: Patricia Sawyer
7-7-2010

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3 comments:

AL said...

Very nice sepia shots! I like ruins of the past.

Lin said...

The beach looks FABULOUS! Who cares if others were there, right? Love the message. :) How sweet.

ThomG said...

I like the brooding nature of the poem.