between the edges...

I have the happy fate of living between the frantic Atlantic and its shadow, the deeply mysterious, gooey, smelly marsh.  I have the sad fate of living in the darkness between the loss of one parent and the sure loss of another.  To this not-fancied child, it's a game-changing loss.  Last night, I dreamt of my father's death.  This time, he was carried to his final rest in a red hearse with a skirt around it making a right turn onto some street I've never seen.  When life throws the gut-wrenching stuff at one, it seems it also throws a life vest.  Because now, of course, all I can think about is that ridiculous red hearse with the red bed-skirt wrapped around its haunches.  I'm crying. I'm laughing. I'm thinking of Faulkner.  The past is masquerading as present in the middle latitudes of the southland where the air is leaden and wet and no one ever dies, and parallel universes insert themselves whenever and wherever they see fit.  Here, between the edges of happy and sad...

West end of Folly looking to Kiawah

on the edge of something wonderful...

The Folly River looking west

It seems that when life has overdrawn your patience and the last bit of wherewithal ekes out of you, along comes love in some odd package...wrapped with you in mind and tightly secured with a precisely curled ribbon...a serendipity, a synchronicity, a surprise, a salute. The trick is to recognize the answer when it presents itself...to know that love walks on two legs or four legs, has been assigned odd zip codes, and blooms in curious colors. Sometimes it turns up when your nails are ragged, your hair is askew and you're wearing that same old blue T-shirt you can't bring yourself to throw away.  It flies in on the fluttering wings of hummingbirds and screeches through the air on the call of the Jay.  It stands at the door.  And even though you are facing the opposite direction, somehow the package gets delivered.  I love my life on the island even when I don't love my life on the island.  I don't mind the wind, the rain, or the delays.  For you see, I've been waiting a long time, and I'm on the edge of something wonderful.  

The marsh and Folly River beyond

"Too much of a good thing is wonderful."  Mae West

magic carpet ride...



Long tables for communion in the tradition of Scottish Presbyterians.
  Interior of Edisto Presbyterian.  

Sweetgrass and palmetto fronds

The Launch or Middleton Plantation (not to be confused with Middleton Plantation on Highway 61,
 although the two plantations are connected by marriage.)  This property is located on the South Edisto
River on Store Creek.  Most of the plantation's original acreage was sold in order to restore the main house.

"The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness

and the world's deep hunger meet."  --Frederick Buechner

Sanctuary of Edisto Presbyterian.  Enclosed pews and beautiful twin spiral staircases
 leading to the pulpit.  Simply stunning!  Someone else liked it, too! 

Annette King, sweetgrass basket weaver.  Stopped by Annette's shop on Highway 174 and had a long
 talk about bulrushes, old and new grass, coiled knots, and how to identify the region where baskets are woven.
She had a brush fire going, which helped dissuade the midges a little.  I still had to dance around to keep
 the biting bugs at bay.  Can't wait to meet Annette's mother, Lillie, who passed down the art of weaving
 to her daughter.  Annette says it takes about 7-8 hours to weave one of the very small baskets.   

What happens when you combine benne wafers, pink lemonade, a pink van, a June mist, and curiosity?  You get a magic carpet ride to Edisto.  What do you see?  You see wild Wadmalaw rising in the distance, lazy oaks offering their oaken arms of shade, frozen time that's hot to the touch, Botany Bay, Store Creek, cattle egrets, horses with bug deflectors grazing like moving statues in paradise, a sweetgrass master basket weaver with lessons to share, a jungle shack, and a tomato.  What do you feel?  You feel frozen like the time; you feel a bit of magic; a bit of awe.  You find a tiny little piece of yourself, and it takes your breath away!

Stained glass window
Interior of Trinity Episcopal Church



Trinity Episcopal.  Love the architectural detail. 

Front Beach
Edisto



Love this balcony window at Edisto Presbyterian.  It looks out to the Session House, now a 

prayer chapel.  You can stop in and pin your prayers to the board.  The chapel is always
 open, and I have it on good authority that the prayers are always answered.

Going places!

Edisto Presbyterian.
  Presbyterians know how to make the simple sublime.

Stairway to Heaven
Interior of Edisto Presbyterian

Green is the color of resurrection!

From on high
Interior of Edisto Presbyterian

Annette's art

Cassina Point on the North Edisto.  Looking across West Bank Creek you see Wadmalaw.
Originally the home of Carolina Lafayette Seabrook Hopkinson.  

 


I'm with Julia...totally in favor of the open door policy.
Edisto Presbyterian churchyard

At rest
Trinity Episcopal Churchyard