I was told this town was pretty, and I hoped to get a few pictures of it. But I can’t, it just doesn’t ever pan out.
You see the problem is that this town was not designed with a camera’s sensor in mind. With blocks after blocks of historic houses, a wonderfully dilapidated river road where the slaves were brought in, gardened ‘squares’ at every intersection in some districts, beaches that always seem to curve just out of sight, and the emotional equivalent of slow living seemingly built right into the brickwork, photographing this town is far outside of the talents of somebody like myself.
I’ve been here for a few days. Exploring parks, alleys, beaches, and backroads. All the while I’ve been clicking the shutter, hoping for something magical to stick in digital format like a wet leaf sticks to the sidewalk after a rain. Maybe, just maybe, with enough pictures of that beautiful hanging spanish moss, I might get just one that adequately translates the feeling it gives as I walk beneath it. Or perhaps that one dilapidated house would become on my memory card half of what it was as I walked across the street from it. Alas, no magic. I end up reviewing hundreds of photos and discarding almost all of them as ‘meh.’ Maybe my camera is broken, maybe it’s my eye, maybe Savannah simply wishes to remain as a mysterious feeling in my memory.
These are the closest things I’ve gotten to usable frames, in no particular order:
I leave Savannah tomorrow, with Florida in my sights. Some time on the beach and maybe a small break from the camera. Going to check out the keys, and then visit an uncle on the gulf side of the peninsula before continuing west. No idea how long Florida will take to get through… it looks like quite a few miles to drive around the panhandle.