the historic south is ungodly warm, stupidly humid, and exorbitantly overpriced. thus, in an effort to conserve our dwindling funds, we brave the southern climes and camp at skidaway island state park. the park is filled with those insane swamp oak trees draped in moss, and i'm in arboreal heaven until discovering that those trees are filled with 13-year cicadas and we don't sleep for two nights. from dusk 'til dawn the forest air vibrated with insects, birds, and other less identifiable creepycrawlies. but during the day we played with squirrels, raccoons, giant spiders, small lizards, and two adorable wild box turtles, which totally made up for the uncomfortably large beetles and moths that came out at night.
the city itself is filled with the same trees, but thankfully isn't similarly plagued. savannah's squares divide the historical district into distinct neighbourhood parks, each centred around a fountain or statue and surrounded by lowland-styled gardens. we spend the afternoon at the owens-thomas house and flannery o'connor's childhood home before driving out to tybee island beach to dip our toes in the atlantic ocean. doom ate more bbq; i once again resigned myself to side dishes.