Summer reverie revisited in Daydreaming on the Porch

There is probably no more beautiful river in South Carolina than the pristine Edisto River, whose watershed runs through a long swath of central South Carolina. I’ve long been intrigued and beguiled by this quiet, meandering, but often swift-flowing stream, visiting it many times over the years, going back at least 35 years, and primarily at Givhans Ferry State Park in Dorchester County, about 40 miles northwest of Charleston.

This quiet little sanctuary of a park is a put-in and take-out spot for canoers and kayakers who have made the river famous. It’s the longest free-flowing (undammed) black water river in North America. I’ve long wanted to canoe a portion of the river, but so far I’ve not taken the opportunity to do so. I love winding rivers and the woods and trees along their banks, and the Ediso is perhaps the ideal river for me. Just walking alongside it, taking pictures, and watching its quiet flow is mostly enough for me. I am happy.

Recently a gorgeous coffee table-sized book was published about the river, full of splendid photos which capture the essence of its natural wonders. Here is the editorial review from Amazon.com:

”What is it about a black water river that causes travelers to slow their pace, breathe deeper and move in harmony with its flow? It draws us back again and again, the steady rhythm unchanged by time or the efforts of man, a siren’s song calling us to return.” And so begins EDISTO RIVER: BLACK WATER CROWN JEWEL, a journey of words and photographs of the longest free-flowing black water river in North America. From the South Carolina Midlands to the coastal shore of the Lowcountry, the Edisto River winds more that 300 unobstructed miles to the Atlantic Ocean. Because of its life-giving, nutrient-rich waters, the Edisto River is one of the most productive and necessary places on Earth. But it is also one of the most beautiful. Even on foggy or cloudy days, its black water is a perfect mirror, reflecting a world of color, its low sandy banks a stage for daily performances in the theater of natural and human history. Open this book and enjoy the journey.”

Edisto River: Black Water Crown Jewel

This summer the water levels were quite low, as they normally are, so the river – about 200 feet wide at Givhans Ferry – is only a foot or so deep in mid-stream at this time of year, ideal for swimming and drifting downstream aways in inner tubes.

Last month at the end of summer, I was there by the river with my camera and photographed a blissful summer scene of families with children and dogs, wading out ilnto the river and enjoying its cool waters on a warm day. On the opposite bank was a rope swing tied to an overhanging tree, which people of all ages were enjoying, swinging out over the river and making big splashes. I looked on longingly, wishing I could be part of it. What fun it all seemed to this curious but land-based visitor, this observer of life. How often lately I seem to be in that role.

What an idyllic tableaux! A painter or illustrator could have captured the scene for a magazine cover and titled it, “The Old Swimming Hole.” I did a lot of thinking and imagining during that all-too brief visit to the river. Wistful, a bit sad, thinking about the passage of time. Rivers do that to you.

Contrast this scene in the photo below with what happened just weeks later when our epic early October floods in South Carolina brought more than two feet of rain to the river basin, causing the Edisto and most of the other rivers in South Carolina to rise past flood stage in roaring, brown torrents. I can picture it now and the disastrous flooding brought on by the freakish storm, an ominous foretaste of more extreme weather events ahead in this age of climate change and global warming.

This is from a local news report on the flooding a few days ago:

Givhans Ferry area residents still wading out the flood

Last updated October 17, 2015