Something about the environs of the Waccamaw River favors the creation of places with an enchanted quality about them. Perhaps it’s the struggle for light and space that manifests itself in bent trees and branches reaching to capture sunlight along the river’s edge. The prevalence of water has something to do with it, providing life giving moisture and generating streams and backwaters, each with their own special character. Cypress knees add an otherworldly quality to the swamps and forests, and skeletons of old trees testify to the struggles of life outside of parks and village squares.
I have, at times, been drawn to such places by shafts of light that tug at some part of my subconscious. At other times I have felt the pull of some small stream or opening at the forest’s edge. That I often arrive at such places as a result of some mysterious force makes them all the more magical.
There are no captions to these pictures. Please feel free to let your imagination provide its own captions.