It enclosed us in its laceries as we watched the moon spill across the Atlantic like wine from an overturned glass. With the light all around us, we felt secret in that moon-infused water like pearls forming in the soft tissues of oysters. Pat Conroy
The seduction of the shore is like no other for a man seeking solitude to open old wounds and to scratch new ones amidst rustling palmettos and the ache of a mythology somberly calling for generations. The lowcountry moves to its own rhythms as gauzy sunsets turn into the surprise of evening and the pull of the sea while a storm explodes over the restless tides. It is a place that tugs reflection and seduces you with the whisper of uncalled memories amid sounds of ever-changing nature around you. This journal is a place for those thoughts.