this Lowcountry.

The smell is all around me…in my hair, in my lungs, in my soul. This is who I am. This place makes up the very fibers of my being. As if the breaths I breathe know they will be taken in easier, breathed in deeper. Deep. That is the only word to describe this place. It wraps itself around me, finding the lowest places in that deep well that exists inside my soul, filling them with whatever powers it possesses. Perhaps, this is why it's called the Lowcountry. That Gullah magic that is born in us, bred in us, that we cannot escape no matter how far we run, it is deep. Always this place calls to those it births. The salt marshes, the haunting voice of the gulls that guard the slate gray coast, the constant tides of the ocean that fills our blood, and the taste of all this, of the sea and salt and sand, all of it calls and pulls with a tide we will never escape. This is our fate. Those who are born to this Lowcountry, this place fat with magic that only the salt air can give,  we are forever cursed to a fate that refuses to be forgotten. We can run or hide or deny all we want, but no matter what we say, we feel the pull to come back to these shores as sure as we feel our hearts beating in our chests. This is fact and truth all too certain. For the Lowcountry gives birth to children that she will never let go. 

And I am but one. One woman who may dwell in mountains far to the west for as long as I draw breath, but who will forever be wrought in two, forever torn, forever haunted by the voice that calls. She forever pulls the heartstring woven around the heart that beats to the rhythm of the waves crashing on her silver shores. Always. For she knows how to mold a loyalty in those born to her like no other place I've seen. There is something about us. Those who are possessed by this land will be fiercly loyal until we draw the last breath into our lungs. No matter what we've gone through. No matter how much we've survived on these shores, no matter what we've tried to escape, we will defend and stand staunch, stubborn to the fact that THIS place is unlike any other. And it is. 

Life is different here. Time seems to slow and move to the beat of the sea that runs through the veins of those living on its shore. Lowcountry time has its own hands, controlling a clock that refuses to be dictated to by any other. This clock lives in us, wherever we might be. Which does not bode well for those of us who have run away from home to dwell in fast paced places like…New York or Chicago or many other cities, overflowing with the intoxicating rhythm that each beautiful city or place has set for itself. 

They are all beautiful in their own way, these places we move or run to. Different and alive and crackling with the tantalizing majesty that only they can create. Like brilliant colors lighting up our lives, broadening our horizons, each new place has a lesson to teach, to mark upon our souls. Each country or state or city, they all have a voice unique to them, otherworldly, that may place a heartstring not easily forgotten. The smells and sounds and tastes of these places, the incredible beauty they possess, in their way they are just as beautiful. Perhaps for many, they surpass the salt marshes that dwell in this tiny bit of land. 

Oh, but for us, nothing can truly compare. This is a fact that truly may be stronger than any other fact in the lives of those who call this place home. It certainly is a fact in my own life. And though I may live the rest of my days far from this home of mine that claims all of who I am, it will never be because the ache has quieted or because the pull is not as strong. No, never for these reasons. If this is indeed the case, it will simply be because reality does not always hand me what I'd like. Reality sometimes ask of me what I'd rather not give, but still I give it. Reality may dictate that I fall in love with a man whose heart is possessed by mountains who dwell far above the sea and marshes I love. Reality may see me on the plains of Africa or the shores of Haiti, pouring out for the lost and vulnerable. Reality may simply say here….for no other reason than that it is here. However, no matter where reality takes me, no matter where I go, (and happily I'll go if my God asks me) my heart will forever and always be owned by the Lowcountry of South Carolina, for truly I am a product of this place, her salt air is carried in my lungs, her sand courses through my blood, and  I am forever a child of her sea. 

© Jade Valcarcel 2012. All rights reserved