Daybreak at the Boneyard
In recent years, hurricanes have claimed most of the once-prominent trees along this amazing little stretch of Atlantic coastline, but others of these skeletal oaks were thus revealed in starring roles, magnificently standing tall for a time against the inevitable elements--on Botany Bay Island, near Edisto, South Carolina.
The barrier islands that line the coast of much of the southeastern United States (and many other places in the world) are far from static features in the landscape. The relentless tides, storms and rising waters push and pull on these barrier islands, and sometimes breach or almost destroy them altogether before spawning a new sandbar, and then a new section of island, a short distance away. When left mostly unscathed for a few decades, beautiful maritime forests of live oak and palm cover these narrow, tenuous lands just a few feet above sea level. When the waters once again encroach, bit by bit, the palms and other plants are often washed away first, leaving these remains of the more deeply-rooted live oaks to stand for a little while longer as haunting and beautiful seaside sentinels.
Places like these are often called "boneyard" beaches in this part of the world, a term that feels quite apt when wandering among all the scattered forest remnants lining the beach in the faint twilight well before dawn. But when the twilight brightens into morning and the first warm light appears--as here, just a couple of minutes after sunrise--the beautiful forms of these trees come alive in the landscape, in a manner of speaking, and provide beautiful visuals against the dynamic open expanses of sand and sea.
Thanks for viewing!
Daybreak at the Boneyard
In recent years, hurricanes have claimed most of the once-prominent trees along this amazing little stretch of Atlantic coastline, but others of these skeletal oaks were thus revealed in starring roles, magnificently standing tall for a time against the inevitable elements--on Botany Bay Island, near Edisto, South Carolina.
The barrier islands that line the coast of much of the southeastern United States (and many other places in the world) are far from static features in the landscape. The relentless tides, storms and rising waters push and pull on these barrier islands, and sometimes breach or almost destroy them altogether before spawning a new sandbar, and then a new section of island, a short distance away. When left mostly unscathed for a few decades, beautiful maritime forests of live oak and palm cover these narrow, tenuous lands just a few feet above sea level. When the waters once again encroach, bit by bit, the palms and other plants are often washed away first, leaving these remains of the more deeply-rooted live oaks to stand for a little while longer as haunting and beautiful seaside sentinels.
Places like these are often called "boneyard" beaches in this part of the world, a term that feels quite apt when wandering among all the scattered forest remnants lining the beach in the faint twilight well before dawn. But when the twilight brightens into morning and the first warm light appears--as here, just a couple of minutes after sunrise--the beautiful forms of these trees come alive in the landscape, in a manner of speaking, and provide beautiful visuals against the dynamic open expanses of sand and sea.
Thanks for viewing!