Tales of Cypress Gardens: Part One
Halfway through the eighteenth century, Alexander Nesbitt came to the colonies from Scotland, bringing his family and business along with him. He settled about an hour north of Charleston and planted his rice, creating a booming plantation on about 175 acres of land. After Nesbitt’s time, the land was dug out and made into a freshwater reservoir. And after that it was a duck-hunting reserve. Then, in the Great Depression, the men in the area needed work. So, they were hired to create trails through the land to create a series of gardens within a swamp. Today, these lands are called Cypress Gardens and cater to film crews and families annually. The land is beautiful, but there are hidden truths to the swamp, and I can share them.
Every night, she slips into the dark water, blacker than coal.
She hides, nestled within the cypress trees, swimming through their roots.
Her pale skin stands in stark contrast with the murky depths.
As she swims, she hunts, alongside the proper owners of the swamp lands.
They know to share with her- they have for hundreds of years.
Catching their prey, they spin and thrash in glorious movements.
Prehistoric, unbelievably strong, undeniably sinister, unable to be tamed by any means.
Her black locks of silk melt into the water, growing out of the mud herself.
Each morning, the light scatters through the trees, speckling the land yellow and pink.
She makes her way home, hidden in the unkempt brambles.
Her home is where she makes it, and for now it’s here.
As the light of day fully takes control, she is out of sight.
