We enjoyed our two days in Fernandina Beach, but it is, although small, a city with the inevitable, unrelenting soundscape of a city. So it is with some relief that we have now returned to the quiet of the low country. In doing so, we have left Florida behind and crossed into Georgia where we have again anchored off of Cumberland Island, home of fantastic Spanish moss, wild horses, a few historic mansions (ruins and preserved), and armadillos.

It was just a short hop over so Anne, Leslie and Evelyn spent the whole afternoon ashore exploring while I did my work stuff. They reported that, unlike when we've been here in the fall, the place was filled with people walking the trails, touring the ruins, etc. Even more strange, they didn't see a single armadillo! On the other hand, they did see lots of the wild horses, various kinds of lizards, and ferns and flowers that have come out to greet the warmer temperatures.

Anne and Leslie spent a bunch of time on the beach and found some reminders of the life cycles that don't have as much to do with the land as ours do: The carcass of a whale gave Leslie an opportunity to really appreciate the scale of their skeletal system and a dead baby sea turtle provided evidence of a recent hatching and a reminder of the vulnerability of these gentle creatures.

The quiet of the low country has embraced us again. The boat is floating motionless on smooth waters that silently rise and fall with the tidal rhythm and the only sounds are those made by living things: birds in the trees and grasses on shore, tiny krill tapping on the hull as they dine on whatever is growing there, and occasional yells and bursts of raucous laughter from the aft cabin!