Edisto
Edisto Beach, Edisto Island, SC
They say that of the five senses, smell is the one most tied to memory. It’s the smell of sun dried linen, kettle corn roasting in the fall air, or Johnson & Johnson in a small child's hair. These are normal scents that tie us to lovely spring days, the excitement of a fall football game, or the first time you gave your child a bath. For me, one of my absolute favorite smells is of a salt marsh.
If you've never had the pleasure, imagine mixing epsom salts in a rusty can while standing in a barnyard. To many, my most beloved included, it’s an indication that someone has been derelict in their stall mucking duties and needs to be reprimanded. I can understand the association, having done my fair share of mucking stalls. To me, it has always meant the first indication that I was near to one of my favorite places on the planet Earth.
Edisto Island is not on any major highway you will find. None of the Sea Islands surrounding Charleston are, honestly. If you fly into Charleston - a truly enjoyable experience if you like small airports - it will take you at least an hour to make it to Edisto Beach. You'll wind your way beneath colonnades of black oaks weeping Spanish moss. You'll drive through one-stop-sign-towns that haven't been updated since before power steering was common. Long before you approach your first sight of an Edisto Island palmetto tree, you'll smell the salt marsh.
So for those not from South Kakalaki, I'll help you speak a little southern. It's pronounced ED-ist-oh. Maybe you've seen Kardea Brown's show on Food Network and already know about this lovely place. If you haven't watched her cook, go find it. Watch at least an episode. I'll wait. Her cooking, much like Edisto, is special.
I never got near a plane when I was a child. All our trips started by loading up whatever past-its-prime car my dad was driving that year. We lived just west of the cypress swamps of the Lowcountry. It was a trip of an hour and a half. Nothing was ever measured in miles, just in time traveled. All my favorite childhood road trips were to Edisto.
It took many years to find a family of my own. Mine is a blended one, and I’m the most recent addition. When we took our first family vacation together, I wanted to share my Edisto. I will forever cherish the magical evening that three of us spent on the west side of the island. Karl getting his first chance to fish in the surf. He, Sara, and I combing the beach for interesting shells, learning a few of the names that I remembered, and ending our day by watching the sunset over the sound together.
May you create one of these magical evenings with your family. Visit Edisto, or find a beach of your own to explore. May you be forever curious.
