Open space, open heart

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Even at 91 degrees, there is a moment of elation at stepping onto a boardwalk surrounded by a brown and green sea of reeds in this expansive salt marsh. Fiddler crabs skitter across the path, a spider nearly the size of my palm rests in the shade. With an occasional pop as pluff mud sucks down the last of low tide, the blessed breeze brings that smell that whispers “Lowcountry” in a way even the city full of flowers cannot.

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