Recently I drove out to Berkeley County, South Carolina to visit Mepkin Abbey, a Trappist monastery near Moncks Corner.

The area dates back to the family of one of the Lords Proprietary of South Carolina way back in 1681, and has been in a monastery since 1949.

When I went, I was too late to see all of the spring colors, but what I could not escape was all of the green. It was as if even the air was green and you could actually breathe in the color. It was the deepest, richest green I’ve ever seen.

It’s a long way out, but I think it’s a good place to go if you need to just be alone for a while and talk to God, or meditate, or even feel a bit sorry for yourself. It happens to all of us at some point or another, you know.

Here are a couple of quick photos, but they don’t do the green justice. I also included a pair of black and whites of some statues…I think they look better without the color.

If you’ve read my posts about Maymont in Richmond, you know that I like Victorian homes. One of the most famous ones in Charleston is right on the battery and it is known by its address: No. 2 Meeting Street.

Built in 1892, it was a father’s gift to his daughter. Today, it is a respected Bed & Breakfast and I’d love to get a look inside some day. In the meantime, here are a few pics that I hope you’ll enjoy.  It’s hard to get good shots of the home without invading anyone’s privacy, so I did my best.  I think you’ll get an idea:

I recently visited Magnolia Plantation, a local attraction here in Charleston. There is a petting zoo on the grounds, where you can come face to face with goats, deer, rabbits, hens and peacocks.

Peacocks are amazing birds: their coloring is so striking. It almost appears that it would be impossible for anything to be that blue. Royal blue is my favorite color, so I thought you might enjoy looking at a few shots I was able to get of one of the peafowl in residence.

This Indian Blue peacock was nice enough to let me snap a few pictures before he decided he’d had enough of me. With markings like that, I’m sure he gets more than his share of attention, anyway.

The amazing tail is used to court the ladies, which are called peahens. Apparently, peahens are impressed by dramatic shows of affection.

This particular peacock apparently found no female in the immediate area worthy of his attention, so he refused to raise his tail.

I’m sure that within minutes of my leaving the area, he probably spread the tail for everyone to see. Everyone except me, that is.

But that’s fine. I was still able to snap a nice, detailed view of the markings.

While the peacocks around here were particularly quiet on this day, I have heard that peacocks make a very loud screech sound that can make neighbors somewhat less than friendly.

But how can you really get mad at a piece of nature as incredible looking as this?

I do not have a green thumb. Not at all. Most of the plants that I acquire end up as shriveled messes if left entirely in my care.

A few years ago, back when I lived in Richmond, I decided to buy a plant for my patio. I chose a hydrangea bush in a pot. They’re supposedly pretty easy to care for, and there’s a little nostalgia there, too. When I was little, my grandmother would keep me while my parents worked. At her home, there were two giant hydrangeas on either side of her front porch.

The bushes are large, rounded green powder puffs, and when the flowers blossom, they look like bright powder puffs of either pink, blue, purple or white. There are some other shades occasionally as well. My grandmother’s plants always had a deep blue, almost purple, flower. I always have liked that color. So I was careful to choose a plant that appeared to be capable of a similar shade.

Sure enough, that first year I had the plant, back in 2005, it started blooming with some light blue flowers. Here’s a picture from a Round Robin Photo Challenge I did in July of that year. I enjoyed the plant, but eventually, my lack of green-thumb talent got the best of me, and, unfortunately, the worst of the little hydrangea: I had completely forgotten it was there, and by the time I stepped back out on the patio, it had shriveled and dried from a lack of water. For some reason — actually, it was nothing more than pure procrastination — I didn’t throw the apparently dead plant away. It sat in its pot, brown and ugly.

The next year, I was watering a few plants on the patio that I had managed not to kill, and I guess I had a little extra water left in the pitcher. For reasons I don’t recall, I decided I’d pour the excess into the hydrangea plant’s pot. There was nothing alive there to water, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.

Within a few days, I had an amazing site, immortalized in yet another Round Robin Photo Challenge in April of 2006. The plant came back, but it didn’t bloom. I suspect it was tired from just having resurrected itself.

Last year, I moved to Charleston and took the little plant with me. I made sure I watered it, and in the spring of 2007, it came to life again. It looked a lot like it had the year before. And there were still no blooms.

I wondered if my lack of watering had killed the little guy’s ability to generate a flower.

Earlier this year, I was in a home improvement store and I passed by what looked like a one-liter soda bottle. It contained a concentrated plant food that it claimed would guarantee colorful blooms. So I bought it and figured I’d give it a shot. Couldn’t do any harm, right?

I’m happy to report that this year, for the first time in three years, there was a bright bloom. Oddly enough, there was only one single burst of color, and it had changed from a light pale blue to a blue-lavender, which probably means something, but I have no idea what that might be.

Here’s a look at the little plant’s production.

A little fuel appears to have gone a long way. Then again, I guess we all, one way or another, at one time or another, find that we’re sort of running on empty.

Sometimes, all it takes is a little fuel to bring us back to our potential, to help us show ourselves and those around us what we can really do when we’re fully powered up.

I wish I could remember the name of that “energy drink” I bought; if I think of it, I’ll be sure to let you know.

As I walked out the door yesterday morning, I was surprised to see that a severe storm had blown through overnight.  Not only had I managed to sleep through it, but the dogs had, too.

And there’s no question that there was plenty of reason for them to notice.  Here’s what was in front of one of the buildings just down from my door:

On the other hand, I am told this is a variety of pear tree, and its particular design, that of an upturned hand, makes it fairly vulnerable to high winds.  But I suspect that the break itself must have made something of a noise.

Of course, a stray cat can walk just a few feet from the door, or someone can close a car door four times the distance from that tree, and they’ll bark their heads off like they were trained by ADT.  So given that, I’m grateful for the night’s sleep.

And glad I fared better than the tree.

If you’ve been a reader here at Patrick’s Place for a while, you probably know that fall is my favorite season.

Up north, people are probably already used to fall colors.  I would imagine that many leaves have already turned colors and have started falling off the trees by now.

In the Lowcountry, we’re just now getting the first taste of fall:

This one tree has a single patch of yellowing leaves.  The rest of it is is green.  I can’t wait for more of the fall colors to appear.  My living room window has a nice view of several trees like this one.

It is now official:  fall has arrived.  It’s my favorite season of the year, for a variety of reasons.  Scenes like this (captured in 2005) are one of them:

There’s a new trend in portrait photography called “trashing.” Some photographers offer new brides the chance to pose with their new hubby in the water or rolling around in the wet sand while wearing their precious wedding gowns.

It’s also something that apparently has appeal to high school girls who just can’t think of anything better to do with their prom dress. Here’s an example.

My take? Continue reading “Trash the Dresses?”

For a lot of people, a big swimming pool in the backyard is a sign of success. For me, I could do without the swimming pool. I’d much prefer something like this:

While my parents came to Charleston, my mom and I walked down Meeting Street in the downtown historic district, and we stopped at No. 16 Meeting Street, Calhoun Mansion.

We didn’t tour the inside of the home…we’ll do that during a future visit. But we did walk around the Japanese water gardens on the property. I’d love to have a home with this much green space…rich, fragrant, healthy green space. Imagine how at peace one could become if this is what waited right outside your door!

Okay, not really. But this has to be one of the greatest news pictures of the year!

A 17-year-old apparently lost control of his motorcycle and plummeted 60 feet off the James Island Connector in Charleston and landed in mud flats. The mud is called “pluff mud” because of the sound it makes if you try to pull your foot out of it.

In this photo, taken by Alan Hawes of The Post and Courier, a firefighter pulls the teen out of the mud. He said he wasn’t seriously hurt, which has to make him one of the luckiest teens in the Lowcountry.

Talk about a story you can tell your grandkids!

I made a visit recently to Magnolia Plantation in the West Ashley area of Charleston. The site was founded by the Drayton family way back in 1676. It’s actually the oldest public gardens in America.

Everywhere you look, you see azaleas, magnolias, camillas, irises and countless other blossoms. Walking down the paths, you’re met with some of the sweetest fragrances you’ll ever encounter.

I saw this gazebo across a pond as I was chasing an egret for a photo. The egret wasn’t in a cooperative mood, but the gazebo sat perfectly still.

I love the beach…with conditions. First, there should be no one else around but me. There’s nothing like a nice, quiet beach with nothing but the sound of crashing waves to listen to.

When I find a scene like that, along with an empty chair facing out towards the blue horizon, it occurs to me that I might have stumbled upon the best seat in the house.

This weekend, I spent a little time at the beach on Sullivans Island. I posted a couple of pictures…and more will come soon…over at Patrick’s Portfolio.

I also found a new church that I like. And I realized how powerful the internet can be when it comes to finding a comfortable house of worship. I wrote about that in The Cross Examination, which I hope to update more regularly.

On St. Patrick’s Day, I decided to avoid the drunken masses with a trip to the beach. It’s hard to believe that I now live less than a half-hour from the ocean. (I hope I’ll still like this fact after Hurricane season!)

Here’s a nice shot of the boardwalk leading to the beach on Sullivans Island. I like the way the wooden boardwalk seems to just disappear into the sand dunes.

The latest Round Robin Photo Challenge is “Red.”

Last month, I posted a photo of a beautiful white Camellia. From my same visit to Middleton Place Plantation, here’s a scarlet red version:

It’s amazing how vibrant that flower really was in person. As vibrant as the color in the photo is, I don’t think the webpage could possibly do it justice.