You probably remember that Hugh and I visit Edisto Island every February for a couple of weeks. We love being on Edisto during its off-season. While it is far from lonely, it does share more secrets than it probably would in busy July or August.

We love the sameness of Edisto —the gnarled trees that seem to hold hands over every path we take, the mattress that usually sways from a tree beside the main road, the chatter of locals we can hardly understand, the marsh tree that is always decorated in some silly fashion. But we always see changes, and this year was no exception.

We always stay in the Edisto Beach State Park cabins, five CCC structures built in the 1930s and two newer ones that are handicap-accessible. The older cabins have always been our pick, despite their musty, dark interiors, but this year we walked into a totally renovated structure. Instead of dark brown walls, there was new lighter wood! The interior ceiling had been raised to roof level, opening the cabin until it seemed like a larger structure. Two bedrooms had become one, and a Murphy bed folded out of the wall in the living room. The kitchen had been upgraded, as had the television, but the grand surprise was the bathroom. I squealed like a piglet when I saw the bright white, clean shower that sparkled beside the toilet.

We have favorite paths we walk on Edisto, most in the park and on the beach, but the one big surprise was Botany Bay Plantation Wildlife Management Area (WMA). We always walk mile-and-a-half Botany Bay Road, about three and a half miles from “downtown” Edisto. The road is dusty, straight and narrow, and we’ve always appreciated that it is lonely. This year, though, the road was busier. We learned it led to the WMA, so after our walk we retrieved the car and drove down.

A volunteer helped us sign in and gave us a write-up on the three-mile driving tour that includes a stop near a half-mile walk to the beach. We were told that unless we were 17 or younger (allowed one quart a day) we weren’t to collect any sea shells, relics, fossils or driftwood, nothing except pictures and memories. Huh!

The WMA is around 4,400 acres and contains two old plantations. Bleak Hall, owned by the Townsends, and Sea Cloud, owned by a Seabrook who married a McCloud and creatively named the home. Much of the work on both plantations was done by slave labor, and sites that remain along the drive are explained. In modern times a lake was created, and each time we drove by we saw egrets, ducks and great blue herons.

We walked the beach three days and loved it more each time. Many of the trees that share the beach are dead. Some still stand; others are toppled and seem to crawl into the sea. Visitors had hung shells on stubbly limbs or lined them on fallen trunks. And the shells? They were huge and numerous, many in perfect condition! The beach is also a favorite of federally-threatened loggerhead sea turtles and state-threatened least terns.

Of course, we should never think that Edisto or any of our barrier islands will stay the same. The park service outfits its cabins in new finery. The sea gobbles the beach. Tidal waves rework the marshes. Nature happens, I guess, and I love its handiwork!

Emily Clements, of Little Mountain, is a columnist for The Newberry Observer. The Bits & Pieces column appears the second Wednesday of each month.