This makes me miss the Golden Isles so much.
There is a place in the time of each day when the sun relinquishes her charge to the slumber that only darkness can bring. It was from my perch on the Sidney Lanier that I witnessed the single moment just before the sun bid her farewell. It was then, in that spot of time and location, that the land and sky joined forces to bring forth the iconic phrase coined by the bridge’s namesake. And it was in this moment that the very heart of the marshes of Glynn sang to me. As the last sun’s rays barely stretched over the expanse of distant treetops, the sky turned a majestic purple, paying homage to the sun’s reign. The marsh grasses were set ablaze in effort to spread the last bit of her warmth. The tidal creek shimmered as if to offer up to her millions of diamonds.
And in this moment, I did cry.