Charlotte Morant Bay Whore ❤️

About Savanna-la-Mar

Picture this: winter mornin’, sun’s barely up, and bam—trees lookin’ like they’re wearin’ diamonds. Hoar’s not just frost, nah, it’s special—tiny ice crystals, spiky, growin’ straight outta vapor. No liquid stage, just poof—magic! I read somewhere—prolly X or some nerdy site—that it’s “sublimation in reverse,” and I’m like, whoa, science is hot! Made me happy, ‘cause I’m a nerd in disguise—don’t tell the squad.

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So I roll up to this big ol’ mango tree on the corner of Bay and Main. It was lookin’ kinda rough, branches droopin’ like it was havin’ a bad day. I’m thinkin’, “This tree needs some serious TLC.” I get my gear out, and just as I’m about to climb, this lady comes up to me. She’s like, “You can’t cut that tree! It’s my favorite!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m not cuttin’ it, just givin’ it a trim.” But she was not havin’ it.

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