Giant yellow beams illuminate the green Palm Trees giving them a golden glow against a bright blue sky.
There is no breeze from the ocean so the only noises are the occasional hums of air conditioners, squirrels darting through tree branches, birds singing and constant Hymns of the cicada.
Orange, purple and pink blooms rest atop of the green foliage in pots on the Beloved Back Deck where the railing has been overtaken by Confederate Jasmine.
Inside our house, ceiling fans swirl and the only light is from the smart phones the girls lay in bed staring at, quietly playing games.
My computer softly streams Bob Marley as I write in my bare feet, utterly distracted by the beauty of the morning and the love bubbling inside this home.
It's Pirate Fest on island so there's a constant parade of bands on the Strand, a Carnival's happening and everyone's dressed as Pirates and Wenches including babies in strollers and old men pushing walkers.
There's a parade later and we're in it representing Bar Church ... yep on Tybee Island it's church in a Bar ... Hymns by the House Band ... prayers by struggling souls and the dress code's pretty lax ... smokers are welcome ... but a sweet Spirit blows into every service.
So in the quiet before the party explodes, rum flows and music erupts from every part of this clump of sand ... I'm taking this silent moment to say thanks.
There really is nothing quite like Island Living.
