When I awoke Sunday morning, I longed for a little more time. There were things I hadn’t said. There were things left to do. I wanted to see my brother’s new place. I wanted to have that talk with my oldest brother. I wanted to stay a little while longer.
Alas, I knew that wasn’t in the cards, but after a breakfast of bagels and fresh tomatoes, I hugged each of them and made a pact with myself: that next time we’d make it a longer visit; I’d say so many of the things I wanted to. Next time.
But, this time, we had to leave. With a jar full of bottle caps destined to be an art project and a heart full of longing, we loaded up into the car. I turned on some 80s music and we made our way to Tybee beneath a bright, clear sky.
The drive was smooth. Our stops were few. The scenery was gorgeous. And as we approached the little three-mile long island that would be our home for the next week, I knew it was a good decision. As the sun shone over the marshes and I could smell the sweet salt air, I knew we’d have just what we wanted: time away, precious time away.
After a stop at the visitor center, knowing we were a little early, we made a little drive-by of our little cottage.
After a short trek to kill a little time and get a gander of the rest of the island, we headed back to Bead Cottage and when I opened the little gate, I got the feeling we may never want to leave. With a screened porch as large as the house itself, a little pool tucked behind it and a privacy fence that promised some seclusion. . . it was perfect, just perfect. The cottage, a suitable size for the two of us, featured a white beach theme and had been refurbished by a local preservationist. It felt like home. I cannot say enough about how much I loved this place. I rarely make that sort of connection like that.
Eventually we made our way to the beach, anxious to see the ocean. And we walked the two-short blocks and over a bridge that took us above the dunes. There it was, the peaceful ocean. After we soaked it all up a bit, we made our way to make our way to dinner.
We found peel and eat shrimp, of course, at Sting Ray’s and a margarita topped it off.
We walked down to the pier, snagged a(nother) margarita at Frannie’s along the water and before I knew it, we were back at the cottage with our feet soaking in the lighted and heated pool. (Somewhere in between we had gelato from the Seaside Sweets.)
Our first day at Tybee was over. And we are off to a good start. The island was so very quiet. I was on vacation.