Anyone who knows me well is very familiar with how much I deeply crave and cherish my 'alone' time. It was late afternoon and the part of the shore to which I wandered off was isolated. I flipped open my mobile phone.

We were 28 years old and she had never seen the ocean before. So that she could also hear the gentle roar of waves breaking on the beach, I held the receiver out towards the sea. When I returned the phone to my ear, I could hear her crying. I offered, "Maybe I can show you some pictures of this place someday."

"That would be nice," she whispered.

It was my first trip to Charleston and likewise, first visit to Folly Beach, whose history as a segregated beach is widely remembered by local citizens. It also marked a time at which I was at the critical juncture of the most momentous series of crossroads I had ever faced in my life - personally, emotionally, spiritually, and professionally.

After selecting the "end" button, I thought it best that I should rejoin the friends I was traveling with, who were still basking in the sun along the most populous stretch of beach. Before turning back to where I started from, I made many personally important decisions that proved to be irrevocably and positively life altering in all realms. One of those many choices was to readily absorb where I was at any given moment and time, and translate my perspective within the surrounding environment with pictures.

Folly Beach was not the reason my life changed, but this is the where it happened, and I visit this destination almost every occasion in the area.