Candid Florida

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.

Sunlight illuminates each strand of a longleaf pine’s wiry crown, dappling the lawns and mulch with patches of shadow and light. There is an earthy smell to the air, cast up by the rumbling fountain before me that masks the sound of road noise beyond. Crows quarrel in the treetops. This is a quiet retreat for many, a garden I left out of my latest book – perhaps accidentally on purpose? Everywhere I look, people are striding along the concrete paths through cultivated gardens and natural habitats. I come here to remember, to honor, and to find peace. Sholom.

It’s a blue moon tonight. I couldn’t help but pull off the Tamiami Trail at Kirby Storter and bask in the glow. I wanted my parents to be here, to savor the mystery of the swamps brushed by moonlight, the cypress domes aglow, the night air filled with chirps and squawks and the occasional bloodcurdling scream of a limpkin. There is no better place to be on a blue moon than in the heart of Big Cypress.

Egret in mating plumage at Gatorland

It’s amazing how many years it took me to get to Gatorland for the first time – my first visit was less than a decade ago – given my family’s love of natural attractions. I took the occasion of my mother’s birthday to take my parents their for their first time, and boy, were they sorry we didn’t go there back in the 60s.  Founded in 1949, it’s not an enormous park, but it’s so packed with wildlife that if you’re an avid photographer like me, you’ll easily spend most of the day there. It’s a birders delight, too. We arrived at the peak of breeding season, with the birds in bright and showy plumage, and spotted some species that we rarely see, like roseate spoonbills winging their way overhead.

No doubt about it – if you’re headed for Orlando, make sure you get to Gatorland. Set in a natural cypress swamp – in a spot where most of the natural habitats are now erased from the landscape by development – it’s an immersion into what this part of Central Florida used to be. Walk the boardwalks, marvel at the ancient reptiles, savor the birds, and bring the young ones, who can play in the splash playground, ride the train, go “oooh” at snakes, and hold a baby gator.

Learn more about Gatorland

Lake Mills

One of the first Florida Trail Association events I attended was a picnic at Lake Mills Park in Chuluota, almost a decade ago. It was a delight to return and wander the lush forest – where Florida rhododedron were in bloom in the uplands, and the fern forest a deep green in the cypress floodplain – and enjoy a stroll along the lakeshore. This Seminole county park is an off-the-beaten-path favorite of mine because of its eminently appealing campground set in the shade of a scrub forest; I’ve camped here several times, and always enjoy being tucked away in the woods with a good bathhouse nearby. Large picnic shelters, lakeside shelters, and a playground round out the high points of the park.

Swimming area on Jenkins Creek

One of the conundrums of naming a place is that people DO expect to find what’s in a name: Silver Springs, for instance, or White Springs, or Lake City … logically, those landforms should exist in those towns, and they do. Hernando Beach is a different animal. I remember after a 60s visit to Weeki Wachee, going in search of a beach and being disappointed at a rough spit of land with sand and pine trees on the Gulf, down at the end of SR 50. But Hernando Beach, I think, was a marketing ploy by a developer who carved canals out of estuary and sold lots at sea level. Shoal Line Road is lined with some fine restaurants, but this is a mostly residential area to the west of SR 19.

You can’t see the Gulf of Mexico from Hernando Beach, even from the top of the tower at Jenkins Creek, but you can smell the salt air and drive along stretches of highway in the middle of a salt marsh. Pedersen Park at Jenkins Creek is a pretty little place for fishing or swimming, with picnic tables and pavilions and a man-made beach along a crystalline palm-lined creek, a slice of Old Florida at its finest.