Emerging from miles of swamp, the Waccamaw River flows almost black, except at the riverbank where shallower water allows the tannins to show their colour. There’s no breeze, but currents ripple the water’s reflective surface just enough to be interesting.
Coming from Alberta, I’m used to clear, headlong mountain streams and to broad, brown rivers meandering across the Prairies.
I’m not accustomed to the swampy rivers that are so common here in South Carolina. They’re a bit unsettling — what’s hiding underneath all that dark water, anyway? — but they’re also beautiful in their own way.