Co-worker Sherry's wedding is tomorrow evening in St. Simons. Took today to make the trip. Usually a 5-hour drive would make me groan with dread, but I took a back-route to make the trip more interesting. Might not have been the smartest choice for a woman traveling alone, but I'm not one to shy away from making an adventure out of one of the few times I get to create Dawn time.
The landscape for most of the trip was Southern rural at its best. When I stopped to fill up at a mom-and-pop gas station (and I was only half a tank low but afraid I'd not see another sign of life before registering E for empty), there was a dog at the pumps, obviously the owner's and an establishment fixture. He didn't seem phased by any of the trucks or people, nor was he interested in being petted or fawned upon. A true front-porch kinda dog. And when I paid for my gas, the woman behind the counter talked to her husband who was standing behind me in a camo jacket and holding a shotgun. Only in southern Georgia.
I stopped at a few thrift stores on the way, the best being Southern Sisters right outside of Brunswick. I saw the owners sitting out front in rocking chairs and made a Smokey and the Bandit turn into the parking lot. Pure heaven. Got tons of shells, vintage ceramic ware, a like-butter leather Fossil messenger bag (for my dear girl Harleigh), and a few other random pieces. And struck up a great conversation with the owners. That's always an added bonus for me.
Got to the hotel, a charming spot, quiet and off the beaten path. Once I checked in, off to the beach, where I took all these pictures. More to come, but for now these images speak volumes about what a vacation means to me . . . white sand, salty air, and the sound of the ocean.