Charleston Critters

I kept running into little critters while in Charleston and decided I’d prepare a post dedicated to the little critters of Charleston.

We spent a lot of time outside at the campground, at the beach and around town.

A squirrel at the James Island County Park campground. I like to watch them scurrying about and jumping from tree to tree. Around here we call them tree rats or suicide squirrels.

 Crabs…large and small.

Baby crab.


They are funny in the water. They are brave little suckers. They will move away from you, but only so far and if you move toward them they don’t back down. They will lift their pinchers and prepare to battle.

The birds are so graceful flying and swooping. Dipping into the water for fish. If there is an afterlife, which I doubt, I want to come back as a bird.

Here is a pigeon, downtown Charleston.

Pigeon, at the Coastal Carolina Flea Market.

Crows perched high.

Pelican, Charleston Harbor.

Laughing Gull, Folly Beach.

Laughing Gull, eating lunch, Folly Beach.

It sounded as if they were laughing at me while I was trying to take their picture.

 After all, watching the little critters go about their day is sightseeing, too!

If you would like to read my other posts about Charleston, SC…click here.

6 comments on “Charleston Critters

  1. Those critters look really similar to our critters on the west coast! I’ve never seen a Laughing Gull though, kind of pretty, aren’t they?!

  2. As a lifetime resident of Charleston, SC., I can truly relate to your impressions of our fair, though often flooded, city. On behalf of my fellow lowcountry citizens, I would like to thank you for your return visits.

    I truly enjoyed wallowing in your blog. You have a wonderful way with words. You should consider putting a book together of your experiences. I hear its the up and coming thing to do now… create books from personal blogs.

    While I was cruising through your pages on your trips to Charleston, I got the overwhelming urge to share with you a few poems I wrote about Charleston. I feel sure you will be able to relate to some of it, so here they are:

    The Essence of Charleston

    The clop-clop-clop of the horses’ hooves
    along the city streets,
    The carriage rides, the mansions high,
    the “City-by-the-Sea”,

    The Oleanders, the Dogwood trees,
    Azaleas by the mile,
    The picture-taking tourists
    capturing a smile,

    The ocean waves, the churchyard graves,
    the ghosts that haunt the night,
    The market street, the battery
    where soldiers braved the fight,

    The basket lady’s “sweetgrass” wares,
    the shops with gifts galore,
    The old estates, wrought-iron gates,
    the gardens held in store,

    The parking waits, the sidewalk slates
    that trip you in your stride,
    The memories, the history
    of steeples in the sky,

    The recipes with benne seeds,
    The harbour with its views,
    The walking tours, the shaded lure
    of moss-draped avenues,

    The old hotels that still do well,
    the walk on cobblestone,
    The flowers held in outstretched hands
    is the city we call, “Home”!

    © 1997 Nancy L. Meek

    Sleepless in Charleston

    At night, the ghosts
    Will walk the streets
    Searching in vain
    For a place to sleep,
    While you lie in bed
    On linens of white,
    All comfy and curled
    And out like a light;
    But don’t be afraid
    If you see on your bed
    A dent in the covers….
    Just cover your head;
    And if you hear moans
    Like none heard before,
    It’s only a ghost
    Pretending to snore;
    And if you are lucky
    And nothing went wrong,
    Maybe by morning,
    The dent will be gone.
    In spite of our science,
    We still do not know
    Why some cannot sleep
    When buried below.
    All we can do
    Is hope for the best,
    Sleep on the edge
    And pray they will rest!

    © 1997 Nancy L. Meek


    To me, they look like roaches…
    The biggest I’ve ever seen,
    But here they’re called Palmetto Bugs…
    Those flyin’ ones I mean!

    They soar at you from ceilings high
    And scare you half-to-death.
    The bravest souls will chase them down
    Until they’re out of breath.

    They slip right through the smallest crack
    And disappear from sight,
    But soon they’re sneakin’ out again
    When you turn off the light.

    They’re nasty little critters
    And I scream when one approaches;
    But no matter what they call ‘um,
    To me, I swear, they’re roaches!

    ©1997 Nancy L. Meek

    Charleston Porches

    Porches lined with rocking chairs
    may greet you on your walk . . .
    Cool escapes from summer’s heat
    to sit and rest or simply talk.
    Laid-back ways, hot hazy days,
    Charlestonian’s southern drawl
    Invite you up to sit a spell
    on porches grand and tall.
    So pour a glass of lemonade
    and take that needed rest
    And beat the heat in Charleston
    where the porches are the best!

    © 1997 Nancy L. Meek

    Angel Oak, Long May You Stand

    If I were a leaf upon your branch
    Through a thousand season’s past,
    Blessed I’d be to have graced your limbs
    ‘Til here we stand at last.

    The generations gone before
    Are layered at your feet
    And, oh, I wish my mind was filled
    With scenes your eyes did meet.

    Your arms endured the Indians
    And Pilgrims from afar,
    Embraced the mighty hurricanes
    And waved at shooting stars.

    You’re blessed by heaven, ancient oak,
    To have lived so many years.
    Long may your faithful branches stand
    To share with all who nears.

    I stand in shade of outstretched wings,
    Look up to heaven’s blue,
    Watch your crown spread up toward God
    And….ahh! His face shines through!

    © 1997 Nancy L. Meek


    Charleston! Charleston! By the sea!
    No sweeter name’s been heard by me;
    When I, in search of greener grass,
    When other towns had bid me, “Come!”
    When going, saw ‘til I was numb,
    When growing none but worrisome,
    Wish to be, “Home, at last!”

    © 1999 Nancy L. Meek

    Peace on the Beach

    The sun rises on the naked beach
    As I work my way to the placid dune
    Towel in one hand, book in the other
    Plus snacks in a bag for lunch at noon

    I’m glad I took this moment to escape
    From the hustle and bustle for awile
    Carefully I lay my towel on the sand
    Then plop my things in a pile

    I sit for a spell and breathe in the sea
    As waves lap gently against the shore
    Hypnotic with its push and pull, I sigh
    I am at peace and wish for nothing more

    ©1999 Nancy L. Meek

    Links to most of my poetry since 1995

    My index of war poetry at the IWVPA:

    My index of non-war-related poetry at the IWVPA:

    After reading about your trip to Krispy Kreme, I feel I must compose one on that topic. Thanks for the inspiration! :-O

    Perpetually penning, I am
    Nancy “Lilripple” Meek

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