This past week I fell in love with Charleston, the most charming coastal city with magical trees, secret gardens, friendly locals, and good food.

Sights included: The Battery, Rainbow Row, Charleston City Market, King Street, Angel Oak Tree, Boone Hall Plantation

“Charleston has a landscape that encourages intimacy and partisanship. I have heard it said that an inoculation to the sights and smells of the Carolina lowcountry is an almost irreversible antidote to the charms of other landscapes, other alien geographies. You can be moved profoundly by other vistas, by other oceans, by soaring mountain ranges, but you can never be seduced. You can even forsake the lowcountry, renounce it for other climates, but you can never completely escape the sensuous, semitropical pull of Charleston and her marshes.”

— Pat Conroy

If we sat down for coffee, I would probably tell you about my summer. I would laugh as I told you about the time the boat died in the middle of the lake and how we paddled with skis back to the boat house. We would discuss the books we've read and how I am shamelessly re-watching all of Gilmore Girls in my spare time. I would show you pictures of the beautiful places I was able to see and share in amazement at God's creation.

So how does a coffee date sound? Pour a fresh cup, pull up a seat, and allow me to tell you a little about the adventures this summer held.

First we retreated to Highlands, North Carolina where the small downtown is as charming and captivating as the mountains surrounding it. We went on hikes of exploration with our pup, ate the best local ice cream, and listened to the sound of raindrops fall rhythmically on the tin roof.

Then we were off to more mountains in Blue Ridge, GA where we stayed at a quaint bed & breakfast. I sipped coffee on the front porch and saw breathtaking views from 6,000 feet above ground. And I was filled with amazement at the Lord's artistic strokes of lush green and deep blues. 

After all of the driving north, we finally headed south to the place where I have spent most of my summers, the place I always find myself aching for like a long lost friend. This house has character with a bright red door and little white fence, where the screen door slams in announcement of another soul's exodus to the white sand and salty air. I awoke with the sun's return and walked to the old donut shop, devouring the most delicious red velvet donut only minutes later. I paddled out into the ocean, straining my eyes to see where the ocean meets the sky; then laughed and tumbled amidst the waves back to shore. I read Steinbeck while digging my toes into the sand, glancing up often in an attempt to soak in the spectacular view. 

For the final trip of the summer, we drove north once again, past the white-haired men selling peaches and peanuts, past the big red barns dressed proudly with the stars and stripes, and past the little white churches all in a row. The winding dirt roads brought us to the cedar shake cottage right on the lake. We cast lines off the floating dock while I thought of Thoreau's insight: Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after. We rode the boat until the lake ended and watched the sun set beneath the mountains, where its light shone in magnificent rays before dipping into its resting place, and you could almost hear the heavens shouting the majesty and mercy of the Father.

In each of these trips, my heart is full of wonder at the Lord's creativity in all of His creation. And I reflect on how this summer has been a time for growth and discovery. A time for learning and healing.  A time for adventure.

Thanks for taking a coffee break with me.