I studied psychology in college and came away with a degree in counseling. So, this is your Rorschach Ink Blot test question for the day: What do you see in this photo? I thought it looked like a large animal—maybe an elephant. Actually, it is of a large piece of driftwood on a Jekyll Island beach.

Today, I was the Beloved Invader and it was bittersweet. A door that once opened wide to greet friends now stands tightly locked. No one lives here any more. The vacancy nearly broke my heart. “The great doing of little things makes the great life,” wrote Eugenia Price.

She also wrote: “Laughter at oneself is always proof that God has healed us in the touchy places.”

We continue to have dramatic sunsets! The storm clouds part and the sun comes out—just in time for the end of the day. (smile)

Every time I go to Cumberland Island, I am struck by its raw and unbridled beauty. I’m also reminded just how unexplainable it is. It’s jaw-dropping gorgeous. The first time I backpacked on the island, I knew there was so much more than what was right in front of my eyes. I was right. The history is as wild as the horses that run free on its beaches and graze on its sun-bleached meadows. I’ll post more photos of this last trip over the next couple of days, but I wanted to go ahead and get this one up on the site. It was taken while walking through a marsh area where a slender freshwater pond called a slough provides refuge for wild life. The hints of blues in the water are reflections of the sky. But I also discovered that the water in the sloughs is a deep blue.

Ok . . . . I couldn’t stop and thought I would post at least one horse photo. The gray on this guy’s legs is actually sand. He had been running through the surf on the beach.

Back in the late 80′s and I guess even earlier than that Eugenia Price practically “owned” E. Shavers bookstore. This is where she launched many of her book tours and where so many of her friends hung out with her in Savannah. When I’m in the city, I always  drop by for a visit and take time to drift through the rooms of books that are strung together like a strand of old southern pearls. This time I bought a small gift book for a friend and as I was checking out I asked the ladies at the counter if they remembered the “Eugenia Price days.” They immediately brightened and said, “Oh, my yes! What fun times those were.” Then they added, “Of course, you know her Savannah books are no longer in print?” I nodded a sad yes as I thought to myself, Our world is a lot poorer because Genie’s books are no longer overflowing bookstore shelves.