Low Tide on Folly Beach

Today, when I think about what is inspiring, I think about yesterday. Folly Beach was at low tide, the flat waves twinkling in the morning sun and the wide beach just waking up to families setting up tents for the day.

I go to the family side, not the surfing side, and there was plenty of sand stretching between us and the waves, patterns of shells strewn on the sand like brushstrokes. I lazily walked along the water line for a stretch, looking but not finding shark's teeth to give to my nephew. Instead, I found the sound of the shells being moved against each other by the waves, found the foamy edge of the wave lapping about my very-slightly tanned ankles, and watched as sea kayakers embarked on a morning journey, all from one push of a paddle against sand.

There was a misty, humid haze looking toward Kiawah, and on the other side, the pier, with its sounds of fishermen and the gift shop distant. We were in a changing playground, a shrinking and expanding one, full of sand and sea from the bottom to the very top of our thoughts so we could think of nothing else ...

My beach

In Charleston, everyone has a beach. Think of it as your default beach setting, and each one in the area has its own distinct vibe. There's (the main spots) Sullivans Island, IOP, and Folly within 20 minutes, but further afield you'll find Kiawah's private slip of sand, Edisto, and Beachwalker Park.

My beach is Folly. I can take the back roads and be looking at the water in close to 12 minutes (depending on the stop light at Center Street) and it's the place we go on a Friday night when we want to hang out and be casual.

Wanna know more? Check out my Folly Beach profile in this month's AAA Go Carolinas Magazine. But don't spread the good word too much -- we still would love to be able to get our favorite spot at Taco Boy!

Fawning Over Folly Beach Pier

Found a link today to one of the last stories I did for Lowcountry Living, and one of the sappiest. But it does not matter -- I still miss the pier today, the way I could tuck myself into a little shelter bench on it. From in the shade there, I could watch the sun glistening off the water, looking north to a Charleston Harbor I couldn't quite see but definitely feel. For a little late summer nostalgia, click here ...