A rental car is a way of playing dress-up. A rental car is freedom in the way a disguise is freedom. We flew into Savannah in the middle of summer, which is a categorically insane thing to do, but, in the parking lot of the airport halfway between Savannah and Hilton Head – an airport that feels like the lobby of some family-package resort where people wear straw hats that aren’t really straw and carry blow-up palm trees to pools where there are no palm trees in sight – the heat feels better than the heat in New York. In New York the heat is about death, but here there’s something living and generative about it, the kind of greenhouse heat in which things sprout and flower and flourish. It’s the heat of ripe, saturated greens and thick wet mud, dinosaur heat, Genesis heat, the world a compulsive riot of invention, sailors from the cold places in Europe arriving at a new land awed and predatory, taking it in their hands like a ripe fruit, the coast of Virginia bleeding green out into the ocean, pulling ships in like sirens, turning the men into pigs. I was already sweating by the time we got in the car. I felt for a moment that I understood
Greens
Greens
Greens
A rental car is a way of playing dress-up. A rental car is freedom in the way a disguise is freedom. We flew into Savannah in the middle of summer, which is a categorically insane thing to do, but, in the parking lot of the airport halfway between Savannah and Hilton Head – an airport that feels like the lobby of some family-package resort where people wear straw hats that aren’t really straw and carry blow-up palm trees to pools where there are no palm trees in sight – the heat feels better than the heat in New York. In New York the heat is about death, but here there’s something living and generative about it, the kind of greenhouse heat in which things sprout and flower and flourish. It’s the heat of ripe, saturated greens and thick wet mud, dinosaur heat, Genesis heat, the world a compulsive riot of invention, sailors from the cold places in Europe arriving at a new land awed and predatory, taking it in their hands like a ripe fruit, the coast of Virginia bleeding green out into the ocean, pulling ships in like sirens, turning the men into pigs. I was already sweating by the time we got in the car. I felt for a moment that I understood