Travel Photography

  There’s something about Savannah that feels like a Southern daydream. Cobblestone streets lined with moss- draped oaks, historic homes straight out of a novel, and a breezy pace that invites you to slow down and savor it all. I spent a long weekend in Savannah this spring, and between the vintage motels, iconic squares, and hauntingly beautiful cemeteries, I found that magic doesn’t have to come with a big price tag. If you’re looking for a getaway full of character, history, and a touch of coastal flair, this three- day itinerary is your perfect guide. Disclosure: Some of the links in this post are affiliate links. If you book through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Day 1: Retro Vibes and Southern Nights We rolled into town and checked into the Thunderbird Inn , a quirky and colorful retro motel just outside Savannah’s Historic District. It’s budget- friendly, full of personality, and even greets you with MoonPies and RC Cola in your room. It fel...

  🌸 Stumpy’s Last Bloom: A Farewell to the Most Human Tree in Washington, D. C. Some trees are beautiful because they are tall, symmetrical, and strong. But once in a while, a tree is beautiful because it isn’t. Each spring, Washington, D. C. becomes a dreamscape of soft petals and fleeting light. The Tidal Basin glows in blush tones, and visitors chase the perfect shot of perfect trees under a perfect sky. But I was drawn to a different kind of beauty— gnarled, broken, and still blooming. Her name was Stumpy . The Bloom That Defied the Odds Stumpy wasn’t supposed to bloom. She was half a tree, really— hollowed out, her center eaten away by time and water and rot. And yet, like clockwork each spring, Stumpy did something miraculous. She bloomed anyway. She stood at the edge of the Tidal Basin, beside the Washington Monument, offering no explanation. She didn’t need one. Tourists walked right by her for years, cameras focused on the grander trees. But those who stopped and...

New Life at Sunrise: A Wild Encounter on Assateague Island There’s something about the hush of dawn that makes you feel like the only person on earth. On this particular morning in May, that quiet had wrapped itself around Assateague Island like a soft blanket. The salt air was cool, the sky still streaked with the last hints of night, and the marshes near the campsite glistened faintly with dew. I had no grand plan—just my camera and the hope of catching the early light over the Atlantic. Assateague, for those who’ve never been, is a barrier island that straddles the coasts of Maryland and Virginia. It's famous for its wild horses—descendants of colonial stock that have adapted over generations to the island’s windswept grasses, sandy shores, and marshy inlets. It's one of those places that feels raw and untouched, like stepping into a slower, quieter world. As I stepped out of my tent that morning, I noticed fresh tracks in the sand—evidence that wildlife had passed through w...