Beach Music

We've cut clear across South Carolina in our last three posted photos. We've come from the rarefied air of the Poinsett Club in Greenville to the open air of Jaco's " Spit and Argue " Club in Columbia to the salt air at Edisto Beach.

The dark irregular formation forward of the car is a groin which runs into the ocean to prevent erosion of the sand which continues apace. Our ocean view is courtesy of dunes which are no longer with us. There is always someone perched out on the distant reach of a groin in a wistful manner. They are volunteers dedicated to preserving wistfulness on the beach since there's very little else we can retain of this sand on which we sit.

One of the wonderful aspects of Edisto is that the beach can still be found almost vacant at times. There are moments in which nothing is going on, no tourists cruising, no rowdy groups passing through, no traffic. This past Sunday was such a day on which we could only hear the sounds of the surf, its breeze and the shore birds chattering. This is our definition of " Beach Music ". Would that we had a jukebox which could deliver this anytime for a quarter.