Some of my favorite things

I like the constancy of tidal waters coming and going, the neap tide deceptively still, the power rush of the river Maye emptying into Calibogue Sound and beyond.
I like the pungent rank of pluff mud and the warm feel of it squishing between my toes.
I like stomping my feet and watching fiddler crabs scrabble back into their mudflat holes.
I like the subtle determined change in the marsh grasses, the timid push of fresh grass in spring, the sway of summer’s fullness, the goldenness of fall, and the reeds, the broken, dead reeds gathered in rafts, full of sea life as they wash away on a spring tide that comes with the full moon.
I like the stinging burn of beach sand in July’s heat and the aggravation of sand spurs that make me appreciate even more the soothing ocean water.

I like the rustle of breeze-shaken palmetto branches, a sound reminding of gentle rain.
I like soft voices from a screened porch, the rhythmic creak of rocking chairs, and the call of a whippoorwill on a summer night.
I like watermelon so cold it makes my teeth ache, and ice cream made in a hand-cranked churn.
I like the smell of baby powder on little children being put down for a nap after a morning on the beach.
I like the chartreuse glow of marshland against a gray thunderstorm sky, an orange moon rising over the river from behind the tree line, and the many colors of sunset.

I like oyster roasts in weather nice or nasty, hot crab, cold beer, and shrimp any way they come.
I like the shag, South Carolina’s state dance, and it’s easy to hum music.
I like the anticipation of daffodils in February, azaleas in March, and camellias in time for Christmas.
I like looking to see if the resurrection fern on oak trees really has turned from dead to fresh green after a rain.
I like being able to identify neighbors on the river by their boat, the color, the size, the type, the outboard motor, whether Mercury or Johnson.

I like banana popsicles, sugary sweet, dripping in the heat of a summer day, my tongue frozen, sticky juice running down my elbow.
I like riding in a convertible with the top down on a full moon night.
I like music that makes me move, brings tears to the eye and smiles to the heart, reminds me of dear ones, happenings, has me remembering.
I like books that teach me, taunt me, take me elsewhere.
I like the challenge of a back road, where does it go, what is there, who lives there, and why.

I like people who smile, who stop on the street to visit, who wave as they pass by and toot their horn, who say, “please,” and “thank you,” “yes ma’am,” and “no sir,” who know how to flirt and have fun as best friends.
I like asking people what time they go to church, knowing that they do.
Above all.
I like living in the Lowcountry, being a small part of this wonderful, marvelous, fantastic place we call Bluffton.

Annelore Harrell’s journey is a tapestry woven with fascinating experiences and extraordinary accomplishments. Even at 92 in 2025, Annelore’s energy and zest for life continue to inspire. Annelore Harrell’s story is a testament to living with passion, resilience, and an unquenchable thirst for adventure.