We turned onto a narrow road bordered by live oaks draped with Spanish moss, their ancient branches creating a natural canopy.
At the end of the lane stood a weathered blue cottage, its wide wraparound porch facing a tranquil expanse of water where the Intracoastal Waterway widened into a small sound.
“It’s not oceanfront,” Sandra cautioned as we parked. “The Atlantic is about a half mile that way—easy walking distance. But this…” She gestured toward the glistening water view. “This offers a different kind of peace. Less dramatic than ocean
