Spring Break Thoughts

I rarely have the opportunity to see the beach. While Texas isn't *technically* landlocked, a series of college party houses along a browning eastern coastline isn't exactly the ideal scene. The few trips I've taken to Galveston or South Padre were all covid-driven, please get me out of my house or I'm going to die excursions, not let's go look at the beautiful ocean vacations.

A recent summer in Miami reminded me of the beauty of the beach, so when spring break planning rolled around for my friends and me, I reluctantly decided to forgo my usual ski haunt for a sandy setting. 

As anyone with a sense of geography (a group I sadly cannot figure out the entry fee to) may have 

predicted, Hilton Head, South Carolina was rainy, windy, and on a good day, a breezy 65 degrees. We figured we'd make the most of the weather because regardless, there was the mother freaking beach. Sand that wasn't oily or littered with solo cups. Couples at the ripe age of 70 taking two-handed photos of their spouses.

We decided to drop some cash on a local boat tour. Captain Spike and his not-so-cheery tour girl whipped us around the water, spewing facts about the special pluff mud that never settles in the bay (because, evidently, the water would be "Bahama clear" without the swirling stuff) and the oyster economy Hilton Head ran on for years. 

Halfway through the tour, the boat came to a slow stop. "Now, if you'll direct your attention to two o'clock," Spike announced over the microphone, "You'll see our dolphins." The small kids on the boat looked in every single direction because they had no idea what an analog clock was, but my friends and I watched in wonder as one, then two, then three dolphins lazily arced to the surface. They were pink and grey and charcoal. Their slippery skin gleamed in the sunlight. We stared and took no pictures.

We also watched several sunrises on the trip, waking up before the literal crack of dawn, mumbling to the local coffee joint and bakery, securing sustenance, and settling with our toes frozen in the sand. We stared and took many pictures.

Selfishly, one of my goals for the trip was to go horseback riding. I spotted it on a list of activities to explore and couldn't let the idea go. We visited Lawton Stables, essentially a local retirement home for horses, for an hour-long trail ride. I rode a sassy horse named Flicker, and my friend mounted a significantly more relaxed Cinder.

Our small band rode through the Sea Pines Forest Preserve. It's been a protected area since 1970, and the trees were stunning, tall, willowy things surrounding small bodies of water. We spied two alligators - one that was only a few feet long, and another that rivaled our catch from last class.

                         

My horse made several desperate attempts to throw me off the front, but we eventually settled into a mutual, tentative agreement that basically allowed Flicker to do, well, whatever she wanted, and in exchange, I got to live for the rest of my vacation.

All in all, my spring break consisted of sunshine, foliage, fish, and horses, accompanied by sand and salty water and that briny sea breeze. A different outdoor scene than I'm used to, and one I was happy to visit. Back to Texas skies, oak trees, and dyed-green grass, I suppose.