"​Tybee Was Heaven (Until They Kicked Me Out)"

Southern Belles: They laughed like they’d been born knowing how to flirt with cameras and clouds.

Flashback Friday
It’s been six or seven years since I landed on Tybee Island, but the colors, the shrimp, and the southern grace still linger like a well-seasoned echo. That day under cumulus clouds felt like Heaven—until I remembered I’m probably the last person they’d let in without sending me right back to Earth. A clerical error, surely.

I was younger, bolder, and apparently charming enough to get a few University of Georgia belles to pose for my camera. The shrimp plate? Out of this world. The confidence? Clearly on the rise.

Today, I’m in a food mood and a memory mood—and Tybee delivers both. Heaven may have clouds, but Tybee had mustard-drizzled bread and grilled sausage. I’d take that any day.  Even the young belles, radiant and lively as fresh sweet Georgia peaches, added to the fun and charm of that unforgettable day on Tybee Island.
 
Their warmth and spirit, much like the vibrant atmosphere of the island itself, made the experience all the more memorable. Whether posing for a photograph or simply enjoying the sun-soaked afternoon, their presence was as delightful as the southern hospitality that defined the moment.

If Heaven has shrimp like that, maybe I’ll behave just long enough to get in. Or maybe I’ll just keep writing my way back to Tybee.