We spent our first anniversary in Savannah. The soulful, sleepy city seduced us the last time we were there. This time, we explored more of Savannah and its 24 green squares of history.
Magically, the sporadic rain seemed to fall everywhere (when it did), except on us. All we felt was the moist breath of the Savannah air, and the sweet magnolia-perfumed breezes. We drew in the smell of dew on the leaves. Spanish moss dangled from the live oak like a sleepy party streamer, hung there by a ghost statue. Resurrection fern crawled along their branches, blooming at the drop of rain.
At serene Bonaventure Cemetary, overlooking the river, the air was heavy with a wistful mixture of peace and sorrow. The nostaligia of aging stones carved with stentorian names echoed in the silence of the moist air. No picture can do Savannah justice. It’s a living, breathing city.
