I visited Hilton Head. That's they're rich, ritzy pride and joy. Their real wealth isn't there.

Actually their swamps are pure, enrironmentally clean wilderness. But the Graham mentality is too stupid to see it or know why. Like the felon, if you can't put a golf course on it, what good is it? What good is clean water you don't have to chemically treat and purify? What good is acreage you must visit in a kayak, canoe, or shallow bottomed boat you paddle yourself? What good are giant magnolias whose huge, creamy fallen flowers float on the tea colored water like angel's rafts, before they sink and decay to renew all the life ongoing above?

Aaron Copland captured it in Appalachian Spring. While the piece represents the mountain west from which South Carolina swamp waters drain, the feeling in the music is old, wistful, full of memories and sighs. Sitting on a chair on an old porch, remembering as a night cool from water settles like a misty blanket over everything, embracing and protecting. The very last notes in the music are drips of water falling from a leaf, splashing on a rock, or into water below.

Some places are worth NOT developing, and keeping clean and pure. Here and there a farm of one kind or another eeking out something a little above existence. Reminds us we really need little more than to be just above existence. It is enough.