Ahhh Thursdays are my favorite. It feels like the weekend, but you don’t feel like it is passing by yet. Crew and I had a fun day exploring after we took the dogs for their walk.
On our walk, we see the same people fishing off of the Murray Blvd sea wall almost every morning. I bet they get there at sunrise and start their day this way before work. Its such a neat mix of people. Most of them are in their 60’s or older and I would venture to say they have a Gullah accent. They wedge their fishing rods into the metal bars and can easily fish five rods at the same time!
I had read about The Gateway Walk of the Garden Club of Charleston that was established in 1930 in commemoration of the 250th anniversary of the founding of the city of Charleston “on its present site”. It is a shaded and very discreet pathway that walks right through the center of the historic area and weaves through cemeteries and church yards. It starts on Archdale St and winds all the way to Church st. It was a tiny bit scary being by myself (Except for pipsqueak in the stroller) going into these cemeteries that are completely covered with oaks and centuries old plants. Some of the grave sites date back to 1600s! Can you even fathom that? I tried to picture what the people were wearing as they walked around the area back then. In the Circular Church’s churchyard, they had bricks exposed for us to see from 1600’s- that is remarkable!
When we came out of the churchyard on church street, we started moseying around and ended up in the French Quarter which is down by the wharf on the Cooper River. It was the original walled city of Charleston and has history as far back as 1600’s. On the waterfront, is a gorgeous park with oak trees and a huge fountain. This is a part of the downtown I had never explored before but was so glad I did yesterday!
For the rest of the day, we meandered around and looked at the history. Short of being in Europe, I could not imagine being in a place with more layers of history in one place. What fascinates me the most is how the buildings are built so close to each other with tiny little alleys in between. Some are not even passable so how did the workman even get in between there to finish the outside walls? I bet there are some real treasures buried under some of the layers of stone and dirt in these alleys.
There is an art gallery called the Sylvan Gallery (click on link) located on King St that I wanted to go in and see. The other night on the way back from dinner, I saw a gorgeous painting in the window and made a note to go back and see it when the gallery was open. I was able to interact with the owner while there, and he explained the artist and the painting to me that I was in love with. The artist is William Berra and is based in Santa Fe. The art exhibit is called White Out and it features blurred yet vivid figures of women and children sitting in the sand at the beach with such luminosity of the sky and the sand that they run together without a notable horizon. They are breathtaking! It makes me remember how art was my original passion yet I never save time for it. Shame on me. I want to make that commitment to myself to try it more and more. I did complete an oil painting recently that just sold at our shop. I guess that means I need to keep up the work.
After the art gallery, we walked down Murray Blvd again and saw a sailing school taking place off of Lockwood. It was like a little fleet of water bugs zipping around out there enjoying the beautiful afternoon. The green marsh grass against the blue and sparkling water was so inspiring. The water has a magnetism that can not be described. It feels like I am at the center of myself when I am the waters edge.
We walked to dinner at the Blind Tiger which served as a speak easy during two different times when achohol was banned in the city. The story goes that people would pay to come see the mythical beast the Blind Tiger and then refreshments would be served! Their courtyard dates back to the first decade of the 1800s. The bricks are weathered with many layers of vines having grown up the walls.