Going back to old haunts is never a guaranteed adventure. Things change. People get old; novelty wears thin; some stop drinking; romance and amorous conjunctions alter or become less enthralling. Nonetheless we hadn’t anticipated what unfolded today upon our return to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina where we first visited over 1½ decades ago and have returned almost every year thereafter.  Nothing horrid.  But most certainly it was different from what we had expected to encounter based upon the past.  I speak here of that most curious feature on Hilton Head Island; namely, snow! So remarkable was the discovery that it surpassed what only days before we had encountered to a noticeably lesser degree further northward in North Carolina, Virginia and Pennsylvania on our journey down from Canada. Reportedly – that is, from what we overheard on the local news channels and what the local residents touted in casual conversation – it was a hugely unpredicted event by all conventional standards. It especially disturbed me, however, not so much because of its uniqueness (a skiff of snow means little more than indifference to a Canadian) but because the colour of the geography was so especially inert and simplified compared to what I am accustomed to see in the introductory marshlands and and on the treelined avenues. The avid car lovers on the Island haven’t any truck with salt spray and slush from the roadways.

At this time of year Hilton Head Island is never tropical; but historically when we visited during the same period in the past it has predominantly preserved its subtropical characteristic, only once having succumbed to what at most could have been described as a snow squall, the crystals of which dissolved upon hitting the ground or the beach.  But today’s image was snow on the ground, slush on the sides of the road.

Clearly, based upon the weather forecast, it won’t last another day.  But it was initially unsettling.

Apart from that petty complaint, all else is super.  Our rental cottage overlooking Calibogue Sound at Lands End on the toe of the Island, at the doorway to the North Atlantic Ocean and only steps from Tower Beach Club where I have in the past lingered on my bicycle before swooping onto the vast beach, could not be better. It did not escape my notice earlier today that many years ago our first encounter of Hilton Head Island was at the Marriott’s Grande Ocean located immediately outside Sea Pines Plantation where we have since spent the entirety of our time, progressively moving from the upper limit now to the lower limit inside the same. The decidedly favourable aspect of the location is that from here we can access a bicycle rental and the Salty Dog Café.  We are familiar with the nearby Publix grocery store and CVS Pharmacy (where this afternoon we bought a shower bench for me). There are endless retail opportunities. And a car wash. The imperatives for me are the endless photographic opportunities, the cycling and the privacy.

Naturally we have already completed our technical connections, which in my case include MacBook Pro computer, Apple Watch, iPhone, Apple AirPods, Bose QC Ultra Headphones and Bose Micro Soundlink. There was a momentary frazzle as I imagined having forgotten a wire connection for charging my iPhone; but I thankfully realized I could do so via an alternate connection already in use for other devices. Those connections (and stuffing things in drawers and closets) had been preceded by arrangement with the estate agency of door and gate entry codes; plus we bought a car wash card (a necessity in order to preserve my habitual performance as well as to quell the varnishing effect of the salt sea air). Tomorrow after breakfast at Lowcountry Produce Market & Café (the donuts are incredible) we’ll visit the nearby bicycle rental shop to examine what is available for old fogeys. And we have grocery shopping to do as well.  Soon however we’ll be organized for effortless indolence.