by Brenda S Brown

Created on: August 19, 2009

The feeling of elation begins the moment I leave the mainland of South Carolina and cross the extensive span of bridges that lead onto Hilton Head Island, a vacationland renowned for gourmet dining, soaring seagulls, and glorious sunrises. The land of vacations, never to be forgotten, the closer I get to the island the lower my blood pressure drops.

Even though the local advertisements are minute and the commerce markings are minuscule, our multitude manages to negotiate around the province at an amazingly brisk tempo. HHI is overflowing with shopping malls, consignment stores, and outlet centers, an absolute delight for shopping aficionados.

With scores of grandchildren in residence, and a constantly changing number of adult inhabitants lodging in the villa, the significantly important times of day become high tide, naptime, low tide, and mealtime.

Hilton Head Island is a kingdom of adventure where potato chips, chunks of cheese, assorted fruit and a can of mixed nuts are considered an appropriate lunch. Snacking and picnicking occurs all day long and respective bedtimes become a vague memory.

The lazy days of escape create images so vibrant that they glow in our memories; we don our sunglasses and flip-flops, and explore the castles and fortresses being constructed on the continuously shifting sand. The palm tree filled vistas are chocked full of enough brightly colored umbrellas and lounge chairs to invoke reminiscences of color crayons.

Towering palm trees, top-heavy sea oats, and emerald tinted palmetto scrubs dot the landscape where the youngsters and oldsters alike wander the tranquil seashore in a quest to stuff their pockets with sea urchins. What a delight to watch a dolphin frolicking near a sandbar, and a spy a wayward crab seeking refuge.

Avoiding sunburn and bloodshot looking chlorine-eyes is an endless struggle for the adolescent inhabitants. Learning how to stay on the concrete pathways is a test of your patience but stepping off the beaten path results in an encounter with sticker bushes that could leave a lasting injury.

As my three-year old friend confided so eloquently, sandspurs make me have bad dreams. Me too, Minnie, I agree.

Another enduring memory is the existence of alligators and frequent sightings of these exotic creatures. Never wander in the swampland surrounding HHI; you too could encounter one of the creatures.

To the Burrells, Melba and Charles please accept my gratitude for your enduring hospitality, and take delight in this reminiscence of descriptive prose created specifically for your pleasure.

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