Bruce and I drove up to Georgia’s Golden Isles for my birthday. Before we married, we’d spent a week on Jekyll Island, which is close to St. Simons Island where we chose to stay this time.
This is a part of the country I’d never visited before I met Bruce: as he’s from Philly, he knew the east coast beaches the way I know the west coast ones.
All of Georgia’s coastal islands are beautiful.
In 2014 when we went to Jekyll Island, we had many wonderful experiences with nature. I made Bruce get up at 6:00 a.m. just as the sun rose — with the goal of seeing sea turtles hatching.
Indeed, we saw a nest hatching out right at the end of the wooden walkway going from our hotel to the beach. The tiny turtles scrambled out in the sand and made their way to the gentle surf.
One tiny turtle made slower progress than the others. It turned out that it had one flipper that was shorter than the other which made it go in circles. Bruce picked up an empty horseshoe crab shell and scooped it up. Then he carried the turtle to the surfline and gently put it near the water.
In the faint dawn light, a woman materialized behind us and announced in a harsh, crowlike voice, “One out of ten!” Then she added, “and of those ten, one out of ten survive.”
What did she mean? These are the terrible survival odds for baby loggerhead sea turtles.
We named the small turtle with the short flipper “Henry.” We believe that Henry did “make it” and is a good, big turtle now.
Later that day, Bruce left his Texas Longhorn T-shirt on the beach. We believe one of Henry’s older brothers or sisters made off with it and may still be wearing it.
Yesterday I went to St. Simons’ small downtown village to shop for my birthday. My tastes are changing —
Although I’d spotted two likely candidate stores for clothing earlier, I went into an “international” themed store first. The store had many imported items from India, and the lovely woman working there told me that all of the profits went to the women in India who made many of the items. There were pictures everywhere of the owner and the women.
I liked a short silk jacket, and the woman went in the back and got a few more of them for me to see. I quickly saw one in my favorite color and also picked a coral beaded strand that she said I could wear as a bracelet or necklace.
After a nice talk, I introduced myself, and she said, “I’m Mara.”
“Wow,” I said. “I’ve never met anyone in real life named Mara, but I named a character in a book I’ve written that name.”
I struggled to relate the awkward story of “which book.” The young adult book that went to Pub Board at Scholastic for six months (then of course, is maybe somewhere in one of my multiple backup directories). Mara is Humphree’s friend. Humphree the Fire Gryphon, the on-again/off-again love of Shula the Salamander (Like Fire — August 2023).
“You’re a writer?” she asked.
I was forced to admit, yes.
“Chills went down my spine!” she said. “I’ve always wanted to write a book — for children.” Like Judy Blume, she said.
I gave her as much encouragement as I could, and tried to drop a little guidance — write by hand if you like, keep a notebook for ideas, don’t stop even if you feel frustrated — keep going and edit later.
When I went in one of the “trap” stores later, which turned out to be very reasonably priced, making them even worse for me —
I held up a light blue all-denim bodysuit and said to the young woman, “I think you’re too young to remember this, but this reminds me of Britney Spears’ all-denim outfit that they made fun of her for.” A distant memory — guess what? Britney and Justin Timberlake are both no longer young.
Young people here in the South are so unbelievably polite and kind —
I was treated empathetically by both of the young women in both of the stores in which I needed to limit my shopping time …
like I need another little black dress …
I’m at an age where I don’t need anything for my birthday. I don’t need anything at all, really, except a roof over my head, good food to eat, and the company of those I love and who love me.
We went to Fort Frederica, and I learned some history of Georgia, a state about which I knew little. It turned out that the fort and town of Frederica on St. Simons was established in the 18th century as a bulwark against the Spanish in Florida.
While there, we spoke with people who were practicing crafts that the settlers would have done — one man was making a dugout canoe from the trunk of a fallen tree, a woman was weaving on a loom similar to the one my Aunt Donna uses, and a blacksmith was heating his fire, preparing to make steel hooks.
We read about one Frederica settler who was on the wild side: a doctor’s wife beat their servants and apparently tried to kill John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist Church, who lived for a short time at the settlement.
All of the objects and implements on display were “ordinary” and plain things — I told Bruce, “These weren’t rich people — they were all just getting by.”
The settlement at Frederica didn’t last long, but the property has been preserved as a National Monument today. It’s beautiful and peaceful, overlooking the marshes and Frederica River.
There are many sides to this island and this region, which they call the Golden Isles.
When we drove by the small airport, we saw a line of Gulfstream jets. They belonged to billionaires visiting Sea Island — which is on St. Simons, and is also the site of a prior G8 Summit.
We took a sunset dolphin cruise with a local 5th generation native —
Only two dolphin spotted, but we learned of several multi-millionaire and CEO homes, the film/TV work done by this man and his associates, including many famous recent films which had marine scenes filmed in the area, the capsized Ro-Ro Golden Ray (most expensive such disaster in U.S. history), and what goes on at the Oak Club at the Sea Island Resort.
People are changing. It’s wonderful to feel the gentleness and softness of normal, healthy people —
A billion dollars might buy a Gulfstream jet, but everyone can see the sun rise over the famous marshes of St. Simons Island.