Can you fall in love in a month? I don't know, but I think it's possible.

I still think about Savannah sometimes. The old Georgian buildings along the river and the brassy buzzes from free trumpet concerts. Or the artist (Oji Lukata) selling baskets, completely unfazed by the deep horn of a passing cargo ship while telling his life story. Coming from the East Coast, I wasn't used to that kind of warmth—the kind where a quick trip downtown for nail polish turns into a quick game of tag with strangers. Even my usual "just outside of New York" stride slowed down for a wave from someone on the ferry.

Still, there's a weight to Savannah—a history that's hard to miss. On the Fourth of July, I sat at an Italian restaurant, surrounded by friends from around the world, discussing "freedom." And just a few blocks away, a Civil War monument stood as a backdrop for the fireworks.

Savannah felt like catching up with an old friend. A call that's supposed to end at 3 pm but the stories go until sunset. I'm left hoping to know more, find new places, meet new people, and above all share new stories. And for that I say: Thank You Savannah.