When I was a little girl I spent hours wandering along the edges of this very shore, my sneakers sinking in the soft sand, my footprints filling quickly with the rising tide. It was hypnotic, watching tides roll in to wash the shore with their swirl and froth. The water chased the flocks of tiny sandpipers away, back into the salty air and they landed some twenty feet down the shoreline. Then the water pulled back only to slide in again, over and over, in its own measured time, covering the beach inch by inch, until it reached its high-water mark.
3 comments:
I've only read one book by Dorothea Benton Frank. This passage makes me want to Folly Beach. What a lovely cover, too!
I've read many of Frank's books, Les. Some are good; others, not so much. Folly Beach was particularly good because it led me to all of the information about the Charleston Literary Renaissance--something I knew nothing about.
I know nothing of it, either. I'd love to visit Charleston (and Savannah) some day!
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