Candid Florida

One of my family’s favorite destinations in Florida when I was growing up was Rainbow Springs State Park just north of Dunnellon. Back in the day, it was filled with flights of fantasy – cruising underwater in submarine boats to see the fish face-to-face, drifting through the treetops inside a leaf on the Forest Flite monorail, and standing at the base of an immense waterfall to feel the cool splash amid tropical vegetation.

Now a Florida State Park, it’s still a favorite getaway. Here’s a peek at what Rainbow Springs used to be like back in the 1960s, courtesy of my mom, Linda Friend. And yes, that’s me in the photos.

Inside Bambi's Butterfly House

On my first visit to a big butterfly conservatory – the Key West Butterfly and Nature Conservancy- stepping into the swirl of winged beauties, flowers, and inspiring music, I felt like I’d stepped into the movie Bambi.

Right now at EPCOT, during the annual International Flower & Garden Festival, a Bambi-themed butterfly house is one of the don’t-miss stops as you roam the colorful gardens, now cloaked in summer blooms. Filled with music from the movie and a bright array of butterfly-attracting blossoms, the butterfly house evokes the wonder of stepping into animation.

It’s one of numerous inspiring spaces throughout EPCOT during the festival.  Storybook topiary and floral sculptures grace the gardens throughout Future World and World Showcase, with your favorite characters rendered in shades of green, yellow, and red.  Topical displays provide pointers on low-flow gardening, outdoor rooms, and growing veggies in small spaces. Inside the festival pavilion, sponsor HGTV is broadcasting numerous shows live while Florida growers show off our state’s bounty, from honey and orchids to mushrooms and peanuts.

The enchantment of the floral displays scattered throughout EPCOT  means more for the children to enjoy, too, including a spider’s web to prowl and Pixie Hollow – filled with blooms, delicate pixie houses, and topiary friends of Tinkerbell – to clamber and slide through.

The festival continues through May 15, so catch it while it lasts!  More details at disneyworld.com/flowers

There’s always been a certain magic about crossing the Florida state line. It’s not that the terrain or tall pines look any different than South Georgia. This magic is tourism-wrought for the weary traveler, and it comes in the form of the Florida Welcome Center.

When I was a kid on our annual road trip down from New Jersey, it was a momentous event. Clean restrooms! Free orange juice! Smiling faces! And the relief of my parents that the question was finally answered– “Are we there yet?”

This week’s stop at the I-75 Welcome Center triggered a flood of memories and a few tears over losing one lifelong road trip companion, my Dad. But the place was bustling and full of joy, with more families making memories for the future.

Making a late trip to Micanopy, I arrived at Paynes Prairie State Park mindful of sunset’s approach. A wander along Lake Wauberg to the symphony of Archie Carr’s favorite frogs brought memories flooding back of gentler times before the gators chased the swimmers away and the parking lot was still full to overflow. I settled onto a bench to watch the sun shimmer across the waves until it was time to leave, caught in a cascade of memories. Savoring sunset from the boardwalk at US 441 made a fine close to the day.

On an early Florida adventure with my parents

Florida settled into my soul like a fine mist during my childhood, thanks to my father’s dreams. In the late 1950s, he came to stay with family in West Palm Beach to recuperate from major life changes he’d experienced, from the loss of his father to his mother’s remarriage and his dream of college slipping away. He drove across South Florida in his old DeSoto, thru the cane fields to Belle Glade, where the streets were mud and the sidewalks wooden, to the beach at Fort Myers, where he froze all night sleeping on the dunes.

My earliest memories of Florida come from our annual trips that started after I was old enough to walk. I remember Mom and Dad and I walking along SR40 in Silver Springs and me yelling “Yeow bug! because of the insect invasion between Sun Plaza and the Early American Museum after dark. I remember walking the Gumbo Limbo Trail at Everglades National Park and Dad trying to scare me as we walked past the solution holes by saying “oooooolite.” I remember jellyfish on the beach and staring out the car window at sugar cane fields, canals, and the awesome expanse of ocean as we drove across the original Seven Mile Bridge, and how the giant jewfish at the Key West Aquarium dwarfed me.

Dad’s dreams of Florida brought us back here every year, even as our family expanded from 3 to 6, and ultimately led to our moving to Ocala, with Silver Springs one of my parents favorite destinations, in 1977. I was in the middle of high school and did not take the change well. My life moved in different directions until ten and a half years ago, when my sister Susan died. I came back to be with Mom and Dad in this difficult time and I fell back in love with my childhood memories, my father’s dream of Florida.

That dream will always be a part of me, but it is no longer my father’s dream. He left us last night to join my sister Susan. We will carry on that dream, the dream of Florida and backroads, of the Everglades and the springs and forests and gardens and tropical trees he so loved. He will always be with me in my travels.