Carried by the Tide

A Note for the Grown-Ups Penelope I wasn’t sure I was ready to love again. When my sweet Calliope — a long-haired calico with eyes like wisdom itself — passed away on Labor Day in 2017, it left a hole that felt impossible to fill. People told me, “One day you’ll open your heart again,” but I couldn’t imagine it. Love was joy, yes, but it was also risk — the risk of heartbreak.   Then one stormy night in 2019, a kitten’s life and mine collided. She had been thrown from a movin

On a stormy night in Walterboro, A story of rescue, love, and second chances. rain poured, wind howled, and a tiny kitten tumbled from a car.   She scrambled under a van, her belly spotted like a cheetah, a faint “M” on her forehead — for Monkey, Mischief… or maybe Magic.   She let out a tiny sound— meep. Lisa heard it. Pops heard it. They looked. They listened. And they found her.   “Oh, you poor little thing,” Lisa said. They wrapped her in a towel. They gave her food. They

"The Proud Guardian" - Hand-carved in the early 1900s, the Herschell-Spillman carousel lion roars with timeless majesty. With its flowing mane, ornate saddle, and fierce yet noble stance, it has carried generations of riders — a symbol of courage, strength, and the magic of the Pavilion’s golden era. There’s a place tucked beside the water, where the golden lights hum softly as the sun slips low. It’s not far from the fudge shop or the fountain with the pennies. If you pause,

A Note for the Grown-Ups The carousel that Oakley-Mae calls “the horsies” is no ordinary ride.   Built in 1912 by the Herschell–Spillman...

The First Ray of Light The storm did not end all at once. It never does. But there came a moment—a sliver of sky breaking open, a faint...

The Bowed Neck Even in the storm, the flamingo stands—bowed, but not broken. A quiet reminder that survival itself is strength. The storm...