Highway 17, the old coastal highway that’s a throwback to romantic road trips, slices through Darien before it runs north to Virginia and southward to Florida’s Gulf Coast. The town proper of Darien, threaded with mighty oaks drizzled with Spanish moss, is the alpha and omega of the Altamaha River, the first community on its journey inland from the Atlantic and the last before it fans out to where the Altamaha Sound laps gently toward the ocean. Explore Honoring the memory of Butler Island Plantation’s enslaved people The marsh is a secret garden, a labyrinth of water, mud and peat continually ebbing and flowing and camouflaging a hidden world of terrestrial and marine creatures of herons and wood storks, crabs and shrimp, alligators and otters. Surrounded by wide swaths of saltwater marsh, in season either as golden as Midas’ touch or as pale green as seafoam, the prairies unfurl into Altamaha Sound, with long fingers of Spartina grass rippling in endless waves. With dappled clouds in the background, the picturesque scenery is striking.ĭarien, at its heart a fishing village, is on the more southerly end of the long quarter-moon-shaped crescent of Georgia coast that curves inland from Savannah to St. To the right, clustered shrimp boats bob slightly in shimmery water, as if they are curtsying, their riggings capturing the filtered light of a spring day. Highway 17, I pass over a long bridge that crosses the Darien River, an offshoot of the Altamaha River considered Georgia’s wildest and most beautiful.
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