If you ask me (and I’m pretty sure you did), Savannah is the most charming city in the United States. It’s one of those fairytale-like towns that I think “people actually get to live here?!” In another time or place, I’m pretty sure I would have been one of those people.
I returned last night from four days in the birthplace of Georgia, which were spent at the Azalea Inn & Gardens (much to come about that soon). I think—actually, I know—what makes the artsy Southern city just so darn charming is its 24 lush squares and open public spaces.
I spent hours strolling through these squares, my eye glued to my camera. I’ve never seen a city that’s so photogenic around every turn. And, of course, there’s the famed Spanish moss which typifies Savannah and further adds to its beauty. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t attempt to take photos of every square inch of that moss.
I found it incredibly hard to capture on camera, but just trust me when I say the moss gives the city a bit of poetic flair. It’s as if it were weeping—whether for a lost child or loved one, or simply carrying the weight of Savannah on its shoulders—and you can easily see why so many artists, writers and other creatives hail from here.
At nighttime, the moss is illuminated by soft lamplight, giving it a warm yellow glow. Twilight in the gardens is not eerie, but rather the best time to visit as they’re still and quiet and most sane people are indoors for the evening, so you can claim a square for yourself.
(Next time, I will remember to bring a tripod to Savannah. There were just so many things I wanted to capture—mostly at dusk and after hours—and leaving my tripod at home was a casualty of packing 10 minutes before I left town. Someday, I’ll learn.)
Speaking of gardens, I’m off to read The Garden of Good and Evil (finally) as book #10 of my self-imposed 52-week reading challenge—something I meant to do months ago. Better late than never, right?