Edisto Beach – Creek Week!

Helen and I have made three trips to Edisto Beach, SC, in just over one year. After our first visit, this small, quiet beach town, became an immediate favorite. Before we left our campsite on our second trip last year, we made sure we had confirmed reservations for this fall. Fall came, and, sure enough, we’re here again.

We left Knoxville almost two weeks ago and camped for three nights alongside SoCo Creek in Cherokee, NC. There’s something almost medicinal about SoCo and the North Carolina mountains and, although the setting won’t heal my arthritic knee, just the thought of listening to the sound of rushing water as the sun rises and a cup of fresh coffee in hand will most assuredly take my mind off of it. We left Cherokee in good spirits and, as we like to say in jest, transform our mountain home (Lucy – our fifth wheel) into our beach house.

Edisto Beach State Park has two campgrounds, and we have a reservation for eight nights at the beach campground. Before making reservations last year, Helen walked the entire beach campground to find the perfect campsite. I have to hand it to her; she found it—a lovely large site with a stunning view of the creek, marsh, and the setting sun. We parked Lucy and within 30 minutes of arrival, had the chairs out, drinks poured, and Helen’s puzzle ready to tackle. It’s Creek Week at Edisto Beach!

On Saturday around mid-day, our son and both granddaughters arrived from Charleston to tent camp on our campsite. Windy conditions prevented them from spending the afternoon on the beach, so they helped Helen with the puzzle before beginning to write a story about their doll family. Their story was still in progress when they left the next day, but the early draft was excellent, and I promised to use it as a guest blog post in a future edition of Easin’ Along.

By Sunday morning, the wind calmed, and the beach called all of us. Both girls danced in the surf and searched for shark’s teeth. The youngest found a big tooth very quickly, and I soon found one as well. Readers can judge which is the largest. After that discovery, the race was on to see who could find some more. I captured a great picture of both girls in search mode and captioned it “The Sandpiper Pose.”

For the remainder of our stay, I have spent more time creek watching than beach walking. Every morning an egret patrols the creek at high tide searching for breakfast. He does more looking than eating, but he’s a persistent sort, and I doubt he leaves hungry. A pair of herons usually sleep in the Live Oak behind Lucy. They’re not early risers.

On the morning this picture was taken, they looked a bit cranky. Maybe they had a late night. One of the two finally came out from under the covers in time to troll for lunch.

The goldenrod that surrounds our campsite is home to hundreds of butterflies, and watching them is almost as interesting as watching the birds. The bright yellow of the goldenrod is a perfect backdrop for their orange color. This pair put on quite a show for us.

By mid-week, the weather improved considerably, and I was up early and decided to check out the sunrise on the beach, which was about 200 yards from Lucy. I made the short walk between the berm that protects the campground as a pink glow over the horizon announced the impending arrival of Ol’ Sol. A pelican greeted me with a solo flyover, but a  sandpiper hardly gave me a second glance.

A crowd of onlookers soon joined me with cameras at the ready. At around 7:25, the sun began to peek over the low clouds and continued to reveal itself in a slow ascent. Cameras, including mine, clicked rapidly. Within minutes, the sun became wholly exposed, and the cameras dropped. No one left disappointed.

Ordinarily, a dazzling sunrise would be enough for one day, but the beauty of our campsite is that glorious sunsets over the creek are just outside our door. On the same day that we witnessed the sunrise, a few thin clouds moved into the western sky, setting things up for an evening spectacular. While waiting for the big show, I noticed the moon hanging out just to the southeast. I suppose Mr. Moon didn’t want to miss the show either. Soon, the big ball dropped enough to give the western sky just a glint of pink before turning up the burners and going all orange. The waters filling the creek reflected color to our feet. I wanted to applaud but couldn’t take my finger off the shutter button. Here’s a sample from the show.

Creek Week is the best example I can give of what I call a “Slow Walk Through the Golden Years.” With beauty like this in front of us, there’s no reason to hurry, so; we’ll sit creekside for a while longer before we continue…Easin’ Along.