Autumn’s arrival on the Island is subtle. Coastal Georgia can’t boast the fiery reds, bright yellows or deep oranges seen in the north, but anyone paying close attention will realize that fall is creeping ever so slowly in on the sea mist.
This beautiful meadow, covered in muhley grass, is showing off its best cotton-candy colored fluff, which is a sure sign of fall. The white-sand beach is about 20 yards to the right, and for most of the year, visitors pass this fragile habitat unaware of the delicate ecological dance it requires to just stay alive. This close to the sea, with blazing sun, constant salt breezes, and only the thinnest layer of top soil, survival is tenuous at best. And yet, here it sits, letting us know that the season has changed.
And then there’s the cooler temperatures and lower humidity. Heat and humidity are the terrible twins that make summers so oppressive in the deep south, and when they leave town, it’s reason to celebrate. Everyone has a bit more pep in their step, and slinking between shady spots is no longer required. In fact, I was forced to dig into the deepest recesses of the closet for a pair of long pants yesterday. No socks yet, thank goodness, but it’s only a matter of time.