Hey Babe...Hot mama been tellin' me 'bout this place she wantin' me to see right here in good 'ole SC. Well, I take my little Beetlebug out and about after Hot mama filled 'er up with petro and travel on down to this Botany Bay to check it out, you see. And, oh man, what a beautiful and peaceful kinda' place it was, for sure. Everything so very green and coming to life there now. The views are free...the nice woman makes a simple request that you sign her signature book and then gives you some good information about this Botany Bay. Seems it used to be a working plantation and all, man...Now, Ramblin' Man can't dig the whole slavery thing, but this here plantation is a beautiful thing with lots of old southern history. There are ruins left over from the 1700's on the property. The tour is self-guided, so don't you go getting lost 'cause there be gators runnin' wild on this land, man. There be swampy stuff and river criks in the marshland...just like them mean ole gators like. You not be careful and you be gatorbait, man! The wildflowers are growin' in the fields and sway in the wind off the marsh. Just writin' it conjurs up that unique thick smell of spring growth and salty marsh...Hot mama said that smell 'bout make her hurl, which would not have been nothin' Ramblin' Man wanta bear witness to, I tell ya that, man.
The live oak trees are bountiful and grace the entire plantation. These old southern beauties canopy the dirt roads and flow with spanish moss hangin' from every cripled up limb. Mishapen trees lure weary travelers to come tary a bit by the crik and watch the show them fish put on jumpin' from the water to avoid the snowy white egret's piercing beak. Yep...this definitely be Ramblin' Man's kinda place, this Botany Bay. Now Ramblin' Man saved the best part for last fer ya. Ya see, ya cross that marshland and go into unspoiled South Carolina lowcountry beaches. On this hike of about a half mile, the fiddler crabs pay homage to ya and do their little dance at low tide. All them little creatures are show offs at this here Botany Bay, but Ramblin' Man likes 'em and had to sit there a spell before headin' on my way. The sound of crashing waves and palmetto trees ruslin' in the wind keep on callin' out for Ramblin' Man so I had to bid my friends ado and make my way on down to the beach. What a beautiful contrast them huge 'ole dead tree limbs, transformed by time, wind and salt water into collosal pieces of eerie driftwood, made against the ocean blues, grays and whites against a perfectly blue South Carolina sky. And oh, man, the beach combers decorated the dead trees with huge conches that are so plentiful on the beaches and it was such art! Hot mama toasted her body in the moderate spring sun while Ramblin' Man went explorin' and collecting shells. An older and sophisticated lady misunderstood Ramblin' Man's unkept appearance and inquired if he be smokin' them shells. I explained that the only kind of smokin' shells Ramblin' Man's knows about is them tasty little oysters as I offered her my biggest conch shell from my collection. We both had a little chuckle and celebrated the moment by decorating one of them there dead tree limbs with the conch shell in tribute of another beautiful day at Botany Bay.