My cousins and I grew up on South Rhett Ave. Just a stones throw from Noisette Creek. If we werent playing baseball in the vacant lot between Helm and Orangeburg we we were in or around that creek. One summer around 5 PM we started jumping off the bridge, first in the water then into the pluff mud. When you walk around Tidal creeks you always wear shoes because of the possibility of buried oyster shells. On this day I was wearing my brand new and begged for Keds. I watched as my cousins jumped into the waiting mud and sank thigh deep before barely escaping the vacuumous mud, I wasn't so lucky. When I hit, I sank up to my waist and couldn't budge. No matter what I did Neither I or my cousins could break me free and now I had a bigger problem, the tide was coming in. As the boys ran to get shovels they ran into my father coming home from the shipyard who quickly extracted a confession from them. So now I am sunk up to almost my armpits when just about every man in the neighborhood arrive at the bridge and after a quick appraisal of the situation, they decided the only thing to do was tie a rope around me and pull me out. Seems like a good idea except there was only room for 1 person to stand on the creek edge and nobody had enough strength to pull me out. That's when the car backed up. They tied the other end of the rope to my dads 1957 Hillman Minx and not only pulled me out of the pluff mud but up the creek edge and onto the road.Leaving my Keds for all time buried at the bottom of that hole. My dad was a very calm, easy going person and I guess the rope burns and scrapes were enough of a lesson for him. He never punished me for doing what little boys do, but my mom, that's another story. What she punished me for though was losing that brand new pair of tennis shoes. I often wonder what an archaeologist will make of those shoes when they find them in ten thousand years, buried in a creek bed? Anyway I have always been amazed at people who pay for mud baths, when I would have given anything to get out of that one.
Stepped outside to write something witty and charming and an hour later I find I will have lost that time to the kind of spring day that usually ends up on a canvas or in songs. Maybe it wasn't a loss in time as much as an investment in clarity. R. Sweat
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| Taken At My Bike Shop |
The Lowcountry has just exploded once again in another breath taking world of color. Dogwoods, Azaleas, Babies Breath, Wisteria have turned the city into an artist's pallet that Monet would have been proud to have had. Set to a canvas of green grass, both on the ground and in the Pluff Mud Salt Marshes that have returned to life after a Winter spent in hiding. All framed by the picture perfect elegance of our beaches and the endless blue hues of the ocean beyond.
It's like taking a beautiful Southern woman and dressing her head to toe in the most unique of natures head turning floral fashions. Accented by the elegance and grace that her homes so effortlessly exude. Her entourage is composed of the Plantations that were her history and Charlestons gentile folk that are her future.
I feel sorry for anyone not blessed enough to be here and see Charleston as she steals the show and waltzes her ways down the southern coastal runway that is Spring In the Carolina's.
Monday whispers in the wind, as Sunday drifts away.
Saturday had done its best, too bad it couldn't Stay.
Tuesday's joys are yet to come, and Wednesdays bring delight.
Thursday sings me happy tunes, for Fridays now in sight.
Saturday wakes up at dawn, and we hold her in our arms
But Sunday meets her in the night and whispers with its charms
Each day brings light, that shines our way, for all the world to seek
To live, and love, and dream, and hope, seven days a week
Good Night Y'all
Started to write something warm and charming, but I am way too shallow and crass.
So here's to a happy birthday, I hope you enjoy your day.
If you drink far too much and start to swerve and sway.
Remember as you drink your toast and howl the moon away.
The price for seeing God last night, is meeting the Devil, in the day.
R. Sweat
Have Fun, Happy Birthday!!!!!
Clouds pass by the moon again tonight.Like flitting pieces of promised dreamsThey pass me by and whisp away all hope.No sleep, No dreams, No rest this night.Still the clouds pass by and the moon still shines.Good Night Y'all
