It’s Sunday morning in Hilton Head and I am a bit hungover. A crisp and bright morning with an ocean breeze flowing through a regal and well-aged cypress that provides some shelter of shade from the eastern sun. She allows just enough light through to splash and speckle my balcony and shadows of leaves dance on occasion with the breeze. Oddly, there is fragrant sassafras in the air. The sheets are crisp and cool on my unclad body. I stretch. I am finally enticed, over and over again, to breathe deep and clear my lungs of the harsh summer air brought from home.