back to the marshy plains….where the land stretches so far that I can’t see the end, and the sky is big and blue.
back to small towns, where there are churches on every corner and the scent of fried shrimp lingers in the air. Where fires burn in big fireplaces and Christmas trees light up through frosty windowpanes.
back to Southern accents, my mom’s cooking and she-crab soup.
back to the lowcountry.