This weekend, Bevin and I went camping at Crooked River State Park. The main reason was to visit Cumberland Island, which was well worth it. Dungeness was a ruined mansion surrounded by green lawns, with wild horses galloping past dried-up fountains or straying beneath live oaks. There was a deep quiet, a mixture of the bright sunny emptiness of departed humanity found at battlefield cemeteries and the thick, shady reverence of a sleepy forest. Across the dunes, flat beaches stretched for miles. We saw a tiny deer, a huge crab, a living sand dollar, wild turkeys, wild horses, old-fashioned cars rusted to pieces. We will be back, camping there.
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