The days are getting longer and warmer - not that the mid-Atlantic has seen much of Winter so far - and the birds are active and clearly have finding mates and nests on their mind. Certainly February and March can still hold nasty surprises - the dreaded wintry mix. My mind, however, races ahead drawn by memories of the sweet smells of Spring and the riot of colors that will supplant this brown landscape.
And while there are many places near that will be drenched with the reds, pinks and yellows of Spring blooms, few have the history, architecture, and proximity to the sea - and yes food and drink - that pulls one back again to Charleston. Why go again? A silly question, asked mostly by those who have never been, or those who are so young that they fail to realize that true passion is not aroused in an inital encounter, but grows with the anticipation of rediscovery of familiar sights and explorations of still unknown depths. Charleston both decays and continues to evolve with an intensity in Spring that cannot fail to awaken even the most jaded of visitors. There may be no more Kodachrome, or even a Kodak, but Charleston endures and challenges one to try to capture some of its essense on a chip even if there is no more film.
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