Once upon a time, Honeymoon Island in Dunedin, Florida was known as Hog Island and was owned by a pig farmer. Then a hurricane flooded the land and cut the channel known as Hurricane Pass. The former southern half of the island was renamed Caladesi and the former northern half was developed as a getaway for newlyweds. Honeymoon Island was born. It later became a state park. It is accessed by causeway. The north of Honeymoon Island is split, forming Pelican Cove between the east and west arms. I first explored the eastern arm, which faces the mainland. I saw several nests in the trees. Ospreys and vultures were all over the place. There were even bald eagles. From October until May that section of the trail is closed so as not to disturb them. I also saw a moth sitting in a bush. It had an iridescent, hairy back that reminded me of a hummingbird. Returning to the playground parking lot to eat, I saw a tortoise. So did the playground kids. They got enormous pleasure from watching it eat the grass, and I watched them watch it. When I finished, I headed for the west side of the island and walked north along the beach. I could not find a high tide line and judging by the shells and seaweed strewn everywhere, I suspect that the entire western arm is submerged on a daily basis. The sand was moist and large gullies led into Pelican cove from among the mangroves. I planned on hiking to the northern tip and back, but I found much to distract me and eventually ran out of sunlight. There was a path part of the way between two groves of trees and numerous doorways cut into them leading to some stunningly beautiful places. The water smelled like eggs. The mud came in hues of purple and green. The nearly bare trees, lack of undergrowth, and bright white sand reminded me very much of a snowy forest up north. It was exciting to find these secluded places that I had to share with no one but a few ibises. Shells also distracted me. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen such variety before. There were some that were quite large and most were unbroken. Many had barnacle shells stuck to them. Some were full of holes. I’m used to seeing holes in shells but usually it’s just one or two. The colors were mind-boggling. It doesn’t take much to boggle my mind, I guess. The photographs barely capture what my eyes saw in direct sunlight. There was a black pen shell with green and purple shine – like oil floating on water. There was a shell boring white on the outside and brilliant purple inside. I like to leave most shells behind for others to find, but this one was too good not to take home and show everybody I knew. Unfortunately, at home it became an ordinary shell. I am used to shells looking different when dry and under artificial light, but I have never seen this great of a difference! There were also thousands of squishy, pea-sized objects everywhere. I thought at the time that they were seaweed floatation bladders that had broken off, since I sometimes found them among the seaweed, but now I’m not so sure. Do you know what they are? Eventually the sun went down and I had to leave the beach before I had finished exploring. I was disappointed that I had encountered zero rattlesnakes, which the park signs had promised/warned me about. Passing through the playground back to my car I did see an armadillo digging up the lawn. Here are some other things I saw:
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Located on the barrier island of Sand Key is Sand Key Park, which I visited in January. There is a playground, some trees, grassy areas, and a trail, but my visit started out as a bit boring. Finally, I took my chair out on the beach and just sat in the sun and wind. It wasn’t very crowded. I tried to read, but the book I had brought was also boring. I’m horrible at planning. That was when I started to walk around and noticed all the shells. There were a lot of shells both pretty and strange. Some were quite large. There were also numerous sponges and large bits of coral washed up all around me. Inspiration struck and I started building sand castles. I made one with inner passages hidden by doors made from large shells. The other two castles somehow became sand volcanoes. I used sponges for the central fountains of lava in the craters, and red seaweed for the lava flowing down the sides. Broken red stalks of sea whips became the arcs of hot rocks thrown from the top. I lost all track of time. While scrounging for more red seaweed to finish my lava flows, I came across the strange crab shown below. The head is at the pointed end. All the spines point this way. There was much animal life about. Sandpipers ran along the water’s edge, running back and forth to keep out of reach of the waves. Gulls flew by carrying tiny fish in their mouths, screeching the whole way. When I finally left just before sunset, I walked along the beach to see what structures others had built. There were castles and even entire citadels. Somebody had even made a giant turtle covered in shells. All Florida beaches are treasures. How can one be bored at a beach? 1060 Gulf Boulevard, Clearwater, Florida
It showcases and sells art from all over Florida, but Florida Craft Art is headquartered right here in Tampa Bay – on Central Avenue in Saint Petersburg to be precise. This is quite possibly the most interesting gallery I have ever been in, which is really saying something considering how good some of the others are. The pieces are so unique, detailed, and brightly-colored. One can easily lose track of the time and spend two hours there, thinking you are in some emperor’s collection from all over the world. The mission of the organization is to find great artists and introduce them to the community. All art must be three-dimensional (not paintings) and of very high quality. There are the textile abstracts of Leah Gillette, the furniture of David Calvin, the metal-ceramic pieces of Terry Andrews, and the clay sea life sculptures of William Kidd. It was difficult to find a piece I didn’t love.
It’s amazing how something so simple and ethereal can add so much to a place. This transparent silvery curtain is beset with circular patches of intricate design reminding me of bubbles riding a waterfall. It adds a subtle, calming energy to the exhibition room filled with smaller, harder, more colorful objects, rounding out the already incredible variety and making itself the cornerstone of the whole exhibit. It is very different from anything I have ever seen that would normally be called art, but that is what it is. It quickly became my favorite. I had to know who made it and what they called it, but could not find a label. The lady at the counter told me she and another employee had actually made it and they did not have a title for it, telling me to come up with one. After thinking it over a couple days, I have decided to call it The Ghost Planet 1966. If you think you know why, leave a comment below.
The organization provides studios and classes upstairs from its roomy retail gallery and exhibition gallery. It has existed in its current location since 1995 and in Saint Petersburg since 1986, when it was known as Florida Craftsmen. FloridaCraftArt.org 501 Central Avenue, St. Petersburg, FL I visited the Showmen’s Museum in Gibsonton, Florida in November 2016 and it was awesome. It isn’t quite as good as the real thing, but with the lights blinking and the music playing it has that fair atmosphere that I miss. It even has a working Ferris wheel indoors. By the time I left, I was almost skipping down the stairs. In the days before television, movies, and video games, traveling fairs and circuses were prime entertainment. People would wait all year or longer for them. Like trains and bookstores, they hold a special place in our cultural history that will likely persist in some form forever. They kept employed many in society that would likely have had a rough time otherwise, such as midgets, giants, and those with extra limbs. They worked, lived, and travelled together. They really understood what made true entertainment in the old days. Before there were internet cat videos, people put monkeys in tiny cars and rolled them down tracks. Now that’s real entertainment!
As chance would have it, I arrived the same time as a man who used to work in the industry back in the seventies. He had driven a long ways to check it out. He told me how he used to set up Ferris wheels without hydraulics and explained how many of the games of skill and chance worked. The place brought back many memories for him. I know how he feels. I can imagine I would feel the same way if someone were to open a fast food museum. When you learn every quirk of the equipment and how to work around the fry vat button that sticks or the freezer door that won’t close, it starts to mean something to you. This is the real good the place does, not just as a location to spend a fun afternoon, but a place that keeps alive the stories of those who worked hard to keep the show going, the dreams of every child visiting a fair for the first time, and the rich and interwoven history of an entire industry.
I visited Robinson Preserve in Bradenton, Florida in October 2016 and was rewarded with beautiful sights of a variety of plants. There are trails for bicycling or hiking across wide fields, marshes, and small wooded areas. There is a quite tall observation tower next to one of the lagoons, which is where I took the photos above from. If you have good eyes, you can see the Skyway Bridge in the distance.
The usual animals were around, including dragonflies, ospreys, ibises, fiddler crabs, and lizards. I also saw a rabbit. Something strange was going on that day with the bees. There were a lot of bees throughout the park everywhere that there were flowers. People say bees around the world are dying out, but I think they have just been hiding in Robinson Preserve. No matter where I went I could hear their distant roar. I did not know what I was hearing at first before I found them. I even saw a hive at the base of Tern Trail. I decided not to go that way. Another mysterious sound was an occasional bark I would hear throughout the park. It sounded like a cross between a honking goose, a very confused seal, and a human child screaming in mortal terror. I finally discovered that the ibises were making this noise. Every so often they would look up from poking in the mud and bark. I had never heard ibises make noise before. I have not heard them make noise since. This is a strange place. Along the northern edge of the park there are breaks in the vegetation separating the trail from the bay. These lead to small, secluded beaches. The water remains incredibly shallow far into the bay. I could see ibises and herons walking on the mirror-like surface of the sea as far as a hundred feet from shore. On the southern edge of the trail there is a narrow channel of water that connects the sea to the water bodies inside the park. This runs like a river when the tide comes in or goes out. I could see it branch as it cut through the trees into places where I wasn’t allowed to go. What goes on inside there? Here are some more pictures from my adventure: Deep in Lithia, Florida lie the 6312 acres of mostly forest that make up Alafia River State Park. This is a popular place for bicyclists. Off the sides of the mixed-use trail are countless bicycle trails. These trails are narrow, twisted, and very hilly due to the entire place having been used as a phosphate mine in the past. Mountains are a rarity in Florida and this is one place for mountain bikers to get their fix. They are rated as “epic” by the IMBA (International Mountain Bicycling Association).
I did not know any of this before I went and I don’t have a bike; I went for the extensive walking trails, which are shared by bicycles, horses, and also tortoises. Soon after leaving the trailhead, I rounded a corner and saw a tortoise coming from the other direction at a decent speed. Only when I got close did it take any notice of me and this was just to slow down a bit every time I moved. I also saw a navy-blue dragonfly. The trails were a bit confusing. Even though they are marked, they are not always marked at every intersection, and there are many side trails not on the map. Most of these are bicycle-only trails, but it is not always easy to tell. After getting lost several times over I found myself near where I started. Since I was more tired than I expected that day, I decided to leave early without seeing most of the park. On the way back to the parking lot, I saw two tortoises where before there had been one. Very cute. My favorite thing about Hammock Park in Dunedin, Florida is the covered platform I can watch the boardwalk from. There are also several trails, a small playground, a butterfly garden, restrooms, and disk golf available. The day I went to the park the butterfly garden was still flooded from the recent storm so I can’t say much about that, though I did see a couple butterflies elsewhere in the park. From the boardwalk itself one can look down and see fiddler crabs and turtles. The playground features a pyramid of ropes that shifts around as you climb it. You haven’t lived until you’ve climbed something that moves as much as you do. The gravel fill below it I discovered was strangely bouncy. Upon closer examination I determined it was made of little bits of rubber tires. I suppose it makes for a softer landing when you inevitably fall off the ropes. It seemed boring at first. When I first arrived, I took the trails around the eastern perimeter of the park. There were benches named after various people. There were numerous puddles and muddy spots that slowed me down. These puddles had tiny tadpoles! The larger puddles had larger tadpoles! This redeemed what was otherwise a boring area. A drier trail was completely blocked by fallen trees. I climbed around and over the first two only to be utterly defeated by the third. The only redeeming feature there was the patch of plants I found with touch-sensitive leaves. The sun was hot and there was less shade than I like. I was starting to think the park might be a dud. I was very wrong. Returning the way I came I saw an egret guarding the dam. While I walked along the brook, two jays shrieked and chased each other at high speed. They did the same when I returned that way later and the same again when I passed a third time. Then I discovered the boardwalk and the platform overlooking it. A short ways along a bridge spans a waterway. A very loud duck-like bird flew over the short bridge just as I passed, clearing the railing by inches. I was very thirsty by this time and thought of returning to the car for my water, crackers, and sunscreen so I could sit there and read (I had a book, too). Unfortunately, there was a trail heading the other way and I had to know where it went. I stood there for almost a minute trying to decide which way to go. The struggle is real!
When I did finally make it back to the platform I ended up talking with a pretty lady who had the same exact idea I did. She soon left and I decided to finish exploring. Beyond the boardwalk were some paved trails and beyond those another boardwalk nestled among tall mangroves. There I saw six mangrove crabs on a trunk facing each other in a circle. Were they having a conference? Was it about me? I’m probably just being paranoid, but they scattered when they saw me coming. I’ve never seen such behavior before. I also saw a dark beetle and later observed a woodpecker from only twelve feet away. It eventually figured out I was behind it and kept turning its head sideways to look at me. I saw so many things I can’t fit them all in one post. Below are only the highlights: Five Galleries: The Dunedin Fine Art Center boasts five galleries, a gift shop, the Palm Café, and a lounge area in the central lobby complete with art books, couches, and a piano. It is located on Michigan Avenue in Dunedin, Florida. There is good parking. By one entrance is the alien machinery pictured above. By the other entrance is a long tile mural built over the course of several years by many children of different ages from different schools in the area. The center is open seven days a week and paid for by donations.
Thought-Provoking Exhibits: Of course, it’s what’s inside that counts. I caught them on a transition day when only two of the five galleries were open. The Entel Family Gallery hosted an exhibit called Dignity: Tribes In Transition. It was a collection of photographs of indigenous people from around the world, often in a mixture of traditional and modern dress. Pictures of people are interesting because unlike landscapes or abstract sculptures, people have dreams, thoughts, goals, aspirations, and can interact in their environments in complex ways. What were they thinking? I could not tell. There were several plaques on the walls explaining what the project was about. They referenced a UN declaration in the seventies to protect the rights of indigenous people, though I question what else the declaration might have had in it since the four nations to vote against it (New Zealand, Australia, Canada, and the United States) are not exactly known for human-rights abuses (relatively speaking). Another plaque stressed the importance of learning the culture of our ancestors. It suggested that in order to know where we are going, we must know where we come from. I’m not sure I buy that argument. Since the past can only influence the future through the present, why isn’t it good enough to just know where we are now? Another plaque suggested that trees feel pain and that Africans have somehow known this all along. Hmmm. The jury is still out on that. The exhibit certainly got me thinking, which I’m guessing was the point. Pretty Pictures: The second exhibit (Harmonic Divergence) featured works inspired by music. There are two paintings that stand out to me now. At first glance, it looked like a swirl of color probably representing music was escaping from a trumpet or horn of some kind. A drum and harp floated nearby. Upon closer examination, I decided it looked more like the horn was escaping from the swirl. Do instruments make music or does the potential for music encourage the invention of instruments? I’m probably thinking too much. The other painting I liked was a borderline impressionistic scene of a man with a guitar-like object and four women in hats. There were large flowers in the background and fruit on the table. The women appeared to have their eyes closed, probably enjoying the music. It was all very colorful. The instrument itself had several regions of different colors on it. There was just enough consistency in the highlighting to discern the direction of illumination. I liked it. Just off the Skyway Bridge across Tampa Bay are two fishing piers and a park that I had been meaning to check out for a while. First, I stopped at the rest area on the southern side of the bridge. I walked along the water where there was a tiny forest of seaweed just a few feet out. Strange flashes of light beamed out from this mysterious landscape. They turned out to be small fish that were very nearly invisible until they turned at just the right angle to reflect the sun into my face. Second, I drove along the strip of land that connects the southern pier to the mainland. There were a few vehicles parked in the grass and a few palms, but mostly it was empty, leaving plenty of space to sit and watch the clouds. Of course, being me, the clouds did not satisfy for long. I walked along the cracked concrete at the edge of the water, looking for life among the weathered, hole-riddled rocks on either side. The nearby pavement had large holes in it, too. There were numerous scurrying isopods that were incredibly camera-shy. Finally I managed to photograph one of them. I also saw a pretty snail. It was an incredibly hot day, but there was a strong breeze from the south that kept things tolerable. It was much better than the rest stop side. Reaching the pier, I walked to the end and back. There were many people fishing and there were many birds fishing. They were of all ages, races, and sexes and mostly friendly. One guy from New York explained how easy it was to get into the hobby. Apparently one only needs a cheap pole from Walmart and some bait and they can have dinner in minutes. I’ve never really had the opportunity to go fishing before. Perhaps I’ll look into it. There is more than enough space for everybody if they don’t want to be too close, and there is also plenty of space if they do want to be close. This also means plenty of space for parking. There are also restrooms and a bait shop. The clerk told me that I’d be surprised how many people show up unprepared without bait, ice, poles, or snacks. As for myself, I forgot to bring water when I left the house and so I bought a coke. God bless capitalism! Driving to the north end of the bridge, I explored both sides. On the southwestern edge there are numerous shady spots to park and sit by the water. Unfortunately, the ground is rather bumpy here and there are deep puddles. On the northeastern edge there is a large sandy beach. Further down is a walkway leading along the bridge to the city. While I’ve never seen a path that I haven’t wanted to take to see what’s on it, I’ve also never seen a path that I haven’t wanted to leave to see what isn’t on it, so I took a minor detour under the bridge to cross over to the southwestern edge again. The wind on that side was incredibly refreshing as I sat in the shade of the bridge, getting out of the sun for a while. I never did make it to the northern fishing pier. By this time I was tired and thirsty and wanted to head home. Instead, I made a spontaneous adventure decision (S.A.D.). I stopped at a gas station for water and snacks and returned to the southern park to place my chair on the grass and watch the sunset. I sat and waited and read a little and doodled in the sand with my toes. There was something burning on the horizon sending up a plume of smoke that wrapped around the bay. I thought when the sun went through this that I might get some interesting pictures. Instead, the best pictures were behind me. First there was a rainbow as a cloud went overhead lightly sprinkling on me. Then at sunset there was a cloud whose very top was still in sunlight, reminding me of a stack of pancakes with butter on top. Just before I left, a thunderstorm started in the north, creating a light show better than any fireworks display. This is Tampa Bay. Have you ever made a spontaneous adventure decision?
I first visited Hillsborough River State Park in Thonotosassa, Florida in July 2015. It is a large place, with a small history museum, a café, a swimming pool, canoe rentals, and many trails. I took the trail along the rapids and saw three small alligators, a hawk, at least six turtles, and many giant cicada-killer wasps. They must have been attracted to all the cicadas heard singing everywhere. I also thought I heard monkeys on a nearby trail, but finally decided they were human children, which are a closely related species. Very strangely, the only mosquito to bother me was the one that greeted me when I first entered the woods. Nothing bothered me after that. That itself is amazing. I passed by this numbered rock. I surmised it must be one of God’s prototypes. As you can see, he was already fairly good at creating rocks after only three tries. Later, I saw numbers on numerous information placards and on railings. This must be the original park that God modeled all the other parks after! Had I found Eden?
Returning to Eden: Since I wasn’t able to take all the trails I wanted the first time, I went back in July 2016. I first thought that I would take the Old Fort King Trail south to see the parts of it I missed when I visited John B Sargeant County Park and walked north. I was surprised to find it overgrown with grass and open to the sun. It was very hot. I walked for a ways and passed a sign. I don’t know what the sign said, because as I stopped to read it, a gigantic black fly two inches long landed on it right in front of me. It looked much like a horsefly on steroids. I removed myself from the area very quickly. Looking it up later I believe it must have been a type of Mydas fly, which are harmless and also kind of rare – lucky me! Further down the trail, it was still very hot. I considered turning back, but at that exact moment I saw a patch of flowers. That was when I knew I had to keep going. There were many flies, bees, dragonflies, moths, and beetles in more colors than I could ever name. Finally I reached the shade of the woods but soon found that it was a mixed blessing. Not five seconds after I stepped under the trees I was assaulted by about fifty mosquitoes. I pushed on for a while, but eventually had to turn back. Why were there so many? Why couldn’t 2016 be like 2015?
The Seminole were patient and clever fighters that used the swampy terrain and subtropical climate to their advantage, but they eventually lost to superior numbers and superior firepower. Also, the Floridians sometimes approached under the guise of truce in order to kidnap chiefs. Of course, the Seminole were no angels either; they even kept slaves.
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Simmons Park in Ruskin, Florida has some great views across Tampa Bay. There are tables and shelters throughout offering places to sit in the breeze and watch the boats go by. It has a boat ramp, RV parking, two campgrounds, two playgrounds, and a small beach. Shelters can be reserved for large parties. Many people go there to fish or catch snails. It seems there is something there for everybody.
There are numerous coves and mangroves as well. Along the edge there are breaks in the trees to get down next to the water and look for fiddler crabs, horseshoe crabs, or fish. Beware of sharp oysters! I have been very many times 2013-2017. Every time I go exploring, I see something interesting. I even saw raccoons once. Another time I was able to get close to some pelicans. Another time I saw dolphins! Of course, sometimes I don’t go exploring because it is also a great place to pull my folding chair out of the trunk onto the grass and read (or write) a book. Not only does the Cider Press Café not use meat, eggs, or dairy, but they don’t even cook! Everything they make themselves is raw and vegan, which might sound like they would only have salads, but they have much more. I ordered the BLT made with eggplant “bacon” strips. They were good – just a bit sweet with a touch of what might have been olive oil. It’s hard to believe they aren’t cooked. One downside is that without cooking, there is no real bread. The shell in the photo is made from mashed seeds and is very fragile. I had to eat it with a fork in order to not look like a toddler. Still, it is no messier than anything at Taco Bell. The guacamole was excellent.
The flavor combinations and the methods they use to make this stuff are fantastic. Besides sandwiches, soups, and salads, they have juices and smoothies they make themselves, and hard cider they ship in from elsewhere. The Winterruption is delicious! It contains vanilla, cinnamon, and maple syrup. They also sell kale chips, pickle chips, and broccoli bites made by Rhythm Superfoods, as well as chocolate and other snacks. 601 Central Avenue, Saint Petersburg, Florida Sometimes in the middle of the afternoon on a hot day, what one really needs is just a popsicle. That’s all Hyppo has on their menu. The day I visited their Saint Petersburg branch, there were 50 flavors listed on the board (yes, I counted; I’m weird), including flavors such as datil pepper cheesecake, maple pecan, honey grapefruit, cucumber jalapeno, avocado cream, and granny’s apple pie. Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans has nothing on these guys! Everything there is made from fresh fruit. My popsicle even had bits of apple skin in it. It was very good – much better than any pie my grandmother ever made. I thought of taking a picture of it to show you, but alas, I found it had already been eaten!
Sometimes treasures are hidden where you don’t expect. I was on my way north on 301 to Hillsborough River State Park in Thonotosassa in May of 2016 when I noticed John B. Sargeant County Park on the left. Since I had been to Hillsborough River once before and had never been to Sargeant Park, I decided to check it out to see if it was worth visiting. At first, it appeared to be nothing more than a very popular canoe-launching site. Not having a canoe, I wasn’t interested at the time (you can rent canoes there, but I didn’t have anyone to go with, either). When I found out there was also a boardwalk that stretched out to the river, I decided to stick around.
It was along the boardwalk as it cut through the cypress that I made my first serendipity. In the shallow pools on one side were many brown fish. Some were up to six inches long. They had black spots on the sides and when their nearly transparent fins caught the light just right, they flashed blue. I watched them lazily swim back and forth for a while. A little further, the boardwalk came to the river. This was the second serendipity. The sun on the trees made a beautiful, calming sight while I was sat on the benches in the shade. Numerous tiny water bugs caught the sun and made it seem as if the river was made of sparkling water. There was a good breeze that day and I was surprised at how few flies I had encountered in the woods. It is also apparently a popular spot to go fishing. Across the river were several birds: an egret, a great blue heron, and two anhingas in a tree. This would prove to be a portent of things to come when I found my third serendipity. The Old Fort King Trail runs all the way from John B. Sargeant Park to Hillsborough River Park. It is open to hikers, bicyclists, and horses. I only went a third of the way before turning back, but along the brook in the forest I saw a turtle, an alligator, and five different species of large birds (I swear one bird was actually purple!). Unfortunately, my camera then wasn’t worth much and all I got were pictures of what look like blurry amoebas. Even the most boring stretch of woods can have hidden treasures in it that go unnoticed. If the giant orange butterfly didn’t dive bomb me at just the right moment, I would never have seen the large burrow at the base of the tree next to me. If one grapefruit hadn’t fallen out of the tree on the side of the path, I never would have looked up to see all the other grapefruit still growing. I also saw tangerines! The lesson of the day is that treasures are everywhere if you know where to look, and any outing can turn into an adventure. In 2016 I went to Sunken Gardens in Saint Petersburg and had a blast. I walked down winding, interconnected stone paths between huge palms and trickling artificial brooks. I saw ferns, cycads, oaks, trumpet flowers, bamboo, bottle palms, orchids, bromeliads, and antler ferns. There were many kinds of flowers, berries, and all kinds of strange, unidentifiable things. There was even a rainbow eucalyptus tree. They do a good job of packing a lot of plants into a small area. Some of the trees and palms are quite big and it is a constant struggle between looking at the flowers at ground level and seeing some of the normally hidden sights high above. The garden began when George Turner bought the land in 1903 and promptly drained the small lake there to make room for it. To this day, some parts of the garden are fifteen feet below street level. He filled it with flowers and exotic fruits. People loved it. In the 1920s he began charging people to stroll through. In 1999 the city of Saint Petersburg bought the place. They even keep a few animals there. I saw different turtles (including one giant snapper covered in algae), koi, flamingos, parrots, macaws, and kookaburras. The parrots are kept in cages. I tried to teach them some Star Wars quotes, but had no luck. I could probably ramble on about each flower, leaf, bench, and trellis I saw for several more paragraphs, but it would be simpler if you just went yourself. 1825 4th Street North, Saint Petersburg, Florida
Sunkengardens.org
After a tough day of exploring the mangroves of Weedon Island (actually a peninsula) for crabs and birds to photograph, I needed somewhere to eat. Noble Crust looked as good a place as any. Their tagline is: Seasonal Italian Southern Soul. I asked what this meant and was told that they make Italian-style meals sometimes using ingredients from the southern USA. It is seasonal because they use local, fresh ingredients that are in season, and therefore have to mix up the menu every few months. That sounded good enough to me.
I love mushrooms, so I settled on ordering the mushroom pizza to share. It was amazing. Each slice actually got better as I ate it. The pizza was made with a thin crust cooked just short of burnt (the way I like my toast) and covered with mozzarella, parsley, and giant chunks of soft, juicy mushrooms. The only thing that could have made it better was red pepper flakes (which they provided). Afterwards, I ordered something I don’t remember the name of because my eyes stopped on the word Nutella and wouldn’t move after that. What I got was sweet hazelnut madness. It had ice cream, cookies, hazelnuts, and was covered with Nutella. My mother and I visited Weedon Island Preserve in 2016. There are trails and boardwalks. In some places, the boardwalks stretch quite a distance in nearly straight lines while all around is green. It is only from the observation tower that I was able to see Saint Petersburg, Tampa, and all the way across the bay to the Big Bend power station just peeking above the treetops. The boardwalks lead to several observation platforms that jut out over lagoons where birds feed. Some are completely enclosed by mangroves. Others are open to Tampa Bay only by narrow straits. There is only one extreme corner of one platform in the park the picture below could have been taken from. If the photograph had better resolution, you would be able to see Apollo Beach. Looking down into another lagoon we saw a crab, a snail, many fish, several plumes moving back and forth, and strange gelatinous bags. Surrounding the lagoon were several wading birds. Throughout the park were smaller pools and ditches among the mangrove roots that came in amazing colors. Some were brown, others pale tan with a touch of green, others white with a touch of blue, others straight green, and most were a yellow-green reminiscent of Mountain Dew soda. As often happens when I’m awake, my imagination ran away with me and I thought of them as magical pools with magical properties. I thought that each might cure a different disease if bathed in, but if one stepped into the wrong pools, they would be turned into a frog. I stayed out of them. I had always assumed the ditches that run through mangrove forests to be natural occurrences caused by the interaction of tidal erosion and root growth over many years. Then I read an info board at the park about mosquito ditches. Humans used to dig ditches from the sea to allow fish and other predators of mosquito larvae access deep inside the mangrove forests so they could eat up the mosquitoes. Because of the changed coastline, the three species of mangroves that usually grow at different distances from the water now grow all together. The digging also explains all the large mounds of sand I saw throughout the park. I thought they might be leftover dunes from before the forest grew, or nests of some sort, or Seminole burial sites, but now I think they are simply where the ditch diggers dumped the excess sand.
There are fiddler crabs throughout the park. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there because when I slapped the wooden railing of the boardwalk, I heard the crackle of hundreds of them running to their burrows. I did this several more times until they stopped reacting. Further down the boardwalk, I tried it again and got the same response. That was a lot of fun. In the drier parts of the park, we saw a tortoise and an armadillo. We were able to walk right up to them as they fed. Neither acknowledged our existence at all. We also saw dragonflies and birds. These were much more flighty. Unfortunately, we went at a time when the history center was closed, but we were still able to learn that the island (actually a peninsula) was once used by an airport and a film studio. Now it has a power plant on it. Other things to note: much of the park is wheelchair-accessible, and one can rent kayaks to travel around the bay. There are suggested routes, some of which cut right through the island (actually a peninsula) through oversized ditches. There are information boards along the paths and boardwalks to teach about plants and other things. There are even a few benches. I loved it. Little Manatee River State Park in Wimauma, Florida has two entrances. North of the river directly off 301 is a 6.5 mile trail loop and primitive camping site. South of the river is where the main campground, playground, picnic areas, and more trails are. I have been many times since 2013 and I usually take the north entrance. Shortly after entering the woods, the trail splits. To the left it runs along a part of the river, sometimes overlooking it from high banks, other times running through boggy areas. This is where I have seen some rather large turtles, centipedes, spiders, a skink with red cheeks, and many sweet flowers. To the right the trail runs through a dry area with several open places covered by either grass or palmetto. This is where I have seen birds, dragonflies, and a dead tree swarmed by dozens of bees. I have also seen many snakes and many more roots that look like snakes. I once encountered a trio of boars. They snorted at me and departed my presence rapidly as if I wasn’t cool enough for them to hang out with. For a second, I thought I was back in Junior High School. I once saw two bobcats in a tree! Even in the winter, I always find some animal life – even if it is only a distant vulture. September 2014: I returned to the part of the Little Manatee River State Park north of the river in September of 2014. Everything was different. This time I decided to take the shorter loop and avoid the perpetually drowned areas but the recent rain had made the entire area wet. On the way in I had to keep reapplying my bug spray to keep the biting flies at bay. It barely worked. In addition to flies, I saw lubber grasshoppers, several butterflies (including one that was solid orange), and ran into countless spider webs across the trail. I eventually picked up a stick to sweep out in front of me but somehow still walked into five more webs before my walk was over. Also, my stick was so rotted it fell apart in my hands, getting shorter and shorter. Sometimes, you just can’t catch a break. The jungle was noisy this time. I heard sand hill cranes, intermittent choruses of very loud frogs, very loud bees, and the loudest cicadas I have ever heard in my life. I’m surprised my head didn’t explode. There was also a goblin. Seriously, I heard something approaching fast behind me that sounded like cross between a police car and a hyena, but when I turned to look there was nothing there and the sound stopped. I crossed several puddles, muddy spots, and even a stream. Finally, I encountered a puddle that extended as far as I could see, the closest part of which was deeper than up to my ankles and farther across than I could jump. I attempted to drag logs to make a bridge, but it just wasn’t working right and I found the logs were covered in centipedes. I also saw several interesting features I did not notice the last time I was there: February 2016: Later, I went when it was dry. Even though I have been to Little Manatee River State Park before, it seems I am always finding new things I never noticed before, such as trees with unique twists in them, single charred trees while nothing around them is burned, and trees in various states of decay. When I returned in February of 2016, I saw a hollow stump I had never before noticed. Only the bark remained, greatly resembling puff pastry. I also saw several trees with swollen balls on their branches – and not all in the same part of the trail. Are they truly new? Or by noticing one was my mind primed to notice the others? I was also noticing the odd shapes of large flakes of wood scattered everywhere. What goes on when I’m not there? 215 Lightfoot Road, Wimauma, Florida
Floridastateparks.org/park/little-manatee-river From 2013 to 2015 I visited Camp Bayou County Park in Ruskin, Florida many times. I returned in February 2016, but this time I went when the Paleo Preserve Fossil Museum was open. Florida has very few fossils from earlier than the Pleistocene, when there were giant pigs and Megalodon sharks, so the Velociraptor skull they have had to be brought in from elsewhere. Everywhere there are bits and pieces that used to be inside alligators, crocodiles, horses, llamas, and mammoths. On the floor was a mammoth tusk that probably weighs more than I do. There are original bones, mineralized bones, and resin casts. There are also many mollusks and echinoderms (sea biscuits!) represented, as well as agatized coral, Florida’s official state fossil and stone. I had never heard of such a thing. As it turns out, there are seven states without official fossils, including New Hampshire and Rhode Island, which along with Florida are the states I’m most familiar with. Ammonite shells can be bought for three dollars. There are also horse teeth, shark’s teeth, and more that can be bought for between two and ten dollars. The non-profit that runs the park is always looking for donations. Later I took a quick walk down one of the trails. The palmetto around rustles very loudly with the slightest movement. What I thought was a giant, prehistoric pig crashing through the undergrowth turned out to just be a squirrel. I stopped to look at a plant and a grasshopper jumped near my face with a loud pop and flapping of wings. I also saw an osprey in a tree and we stared at each other. Besides the interesting animal life, there are many dried palms on the edge of the park that can be whittled down to make excellent swords. Add some sound effects, and they become light sabers. My imaginary friend was so impressed with my skills that he refused to fight. Why won’t anyone play with me? :(
Paleopreserve.com From 2013 to 2015, I visited Camp Bayou County Park very many times. The park has many trails, a butterfly garden, and an outdoor Seminole village exhibit. It has a miniature, outdoor, self-service library. In past visits, I have seen snakes, turtles, and very many birds. I saw something new every time I went, such as these orange vines, these green vines, and these flat beans: I also saw wild pigs, an armadillo, a moth with antennae five times longer than its body, and this mole highway: There are also many signs to keep you on the trails, even though the trails are very clear, and the signs are not: I’m silly.
Since I drove by it so often, in June of 2015 I decided to stop in Haslam’s Bookstore in St. Petersburg, Florida and check it out. It is so big inside that they actually provide a store map. They cover all sorts of fiction and non-fiction, including physics. They even have signed, first-edition copies by famous people. These are kept behind glass. I tried to write a review of my visit, but I was in a goofy mood that day… Deep in the darkest bowels of the realm of Saint Petersburg, Florida, sits Haslam’s Bookstore. Established in 1933, it has been serving wizards, lords, and peasants alike ever since. I had heard tales of these mysterious objects known as books and how they could impart great wisdom, knowledge, and insight to those gifted enough to tease it out of them. I confess I have been so far unable to entice them to grant their knowledge to me. I have tried squeezing the knowledge out of them in great presses. I have tried making sacrifices to them, including offering the smoked vertebrae from my favorite servant (I shall miss him). I have tried threatening the books with fire and beatings. Alas, they will not listen to me and I am afraid I have somehow unwittingly offended them.
I had heard of a place in Sarasota, Florida called the Marietta Museum of Art and Whimsy and so I decided to check it out. The website mentioned it was closing for construction in June 2015, so I knew I had to act fast. It was pretty cool and I wrote an account of my adventure for you, but I was in a goofy mood that night… I had long heard rumors of the Marietta Museum of Art and Whimsy, but I had always held such fanciful tales as nothing more than mere superstition of the lower classes. When I then saw on my medium’s crystal ball (I believe those in the northern kingdoms call it an internet browser) that such a place in fact existed in the kingdom of Sarasota, I knew I had to see for myself if the other tales about it were also true. The ride to the kingdom of Sarasota was long but uneventful. I did stop once to fuel my travel-machine, but that was it. Finally I arrived in front of a small building with a dolphin statue out front and took the second-to-last parking space at 1:24 according to my electronyc sundial. Opening the door and passing the threshold, I entered a room of fantastic magical creatures never before observed in the civilized world. There were stuffed cloth people and sculptures of coral, birdhouses, cats, and much more that was unidentifiable by me. There were paintings of all sizes and shapes hiding around every corner. A mysterious being soon greeted me and informed me of the Marietta grand law. First, I was told that under no circumstances was I to touch any object for any purpose, nor touch any other mortal such as myself without explicit permission. It seemed an impossible task, but I raised no objection as I feared greatly what unnatural powers this being might posses. Second, I was told that under no circumstances was I allowed to eat any object for any purpose, whether an object I found there or one I had brought in myself. I was greatly relieved that whatever else they might do to me there, at least I would not be on the menu. Still, I prayed to the spirits of art that the being could not sense my extremely edible nature. The being did grant that I was allowed to capture images with my electronyc eye, without which I would have no proof of the existence of such a magical place. Among the paintings therein were the works of a paint wizard named James Gibson. His specialty seems to be brightly colored trees. The paint was layered so thick in some places that it stuck from the canvas in great flakes, seeming as if to reach out for me. Slightly frightened, I wondered if the grand law concerning consumption applied to the inanimate as well as the animate. Among the sculptures therein were the works of a ceramics wizard named Ayenne Applebaum. The name being foreign to me, I was unable to discern if it be a male or a female – or perhaps both. Who alive can comprehend what strange ways these immortals might have? I decided for my sake to refer to the wizard as a she, rather than succumb to the madness becoming so common in these strange lands of late. Her sculpture was that of a coral reef, complete with armored seahorses so expressive and detailed I thought for sure that I was in fact drowning in the sea and imagining the entire museum for lack of breath. I saw pictures of birds that were farms and towns that were birds. I saw paintings of cupcakes and paintings of cats. I saw red, green, and blue stars dance across the ceiling in ways certainly never ordained by the creator of the heavens. Feeling a need to escape this abomination, I found a door and left the building, but in my haste I had exited out the wrong side. I was surrounded by brightly colored plants and animals that remained eerily still. I very nearly died from fright at stumbling across the metallic beast imaged below before realizing it was just as devoid of movement as the others. I warn the reader that this beast is of a particularly frightening nature and I will not be held responsible for what effect it may have upon you have you neglected your morning prayers. Still, I feel it important to include in this report so that you may understand the terror I was in at that time. I urge you to view at your own risk and to first clear the room of women and children. There were chairs and tables in the shade and I saw many mortal visitors sitting quietly oblivious to the strange environment. There was music here as well and I endeavored to discover the source as I could see no band. My horror was boundless when I discovered the music was in fact emanating from grey stones among the greenery. I wept when I realized that our greatest performers had had their souls captured by these devious Marietta beings and placed into stones, forced to sing for all eternity. I regret to inform my readers that John Lennon, Bob Dylan, James Taylor, and Paul Simon have been taken from us and imprisoned by evil Marietta magic. Woe be unto the southern kingdoms indeed.
After taking a few hurried images with my electronyc eye, I reentered the building trying to retrace my steps. I now saw that there were several Marietta beings, identifiable by the glyph-printed placards hanging from their fronts – or at least what I imagined to be their fronts since this was the side in the direction that they moved. One of them had a large group of mortals entranced by her (his?) words as she told the histories of how each artifact came to be. I caught some of her words as she told how one of the art wizards was cured of a dark, homicidal insanity by channeling it into fabric paint on plywood. I shuddered to think of all the concentrated evil locked up in these pieces of art. That I was not also entranced by her words I owe to the lucky fact that I was on the fringe of the group and her words were hard to penetrate the ambient noise, making them hard for me to comprehend. At last I was able to find the door I had originally entered and I stumbled into the sunlight a full hour in the future. The sights and sounds there no man should ever be made to endure, yet I survived and escaped. The Marietta are not omnipotent; they can be defeated. It is true they are soon to be leaving our realm, but they will return in October – and that is when we will be ready for them! They aim to deliver horrors to this world, but we will instead deliver horrors to them! I bid all who are willing to bravely face this menace to follow me next autumn back to their Sarasota lair, where we shall don our fiercest war paint and show the Marietta that we mortals too can be artistic. Who’s with me? I visited Withlacoochee Park in Dade City, Florida in March 2015. It was hot, humid, and covered in flies, but other than that it was pretty cool. There are several large parking lots, picnic shelters, two playgrounds, and a canoe launch. The good playground has plastic drums and metal “bowls” built into it, just in case your children aren’t loud enough already. Much of the structure has hornets growing on it, just in case your children like to pet animals. Also, the highest point of the structure, from which two covered slides attach (very slippery and fun, I might add), can only be accessed by a short ladder through a tight hole in the floor – I assume to keep fat kids and grown-ups out, because nobody wants either of them around. There are long trails looping around the park, but the flies wore me out before I could explore them all. I did climb the observation tower and traverse one swamp boardwalk while I was there though. I saw several interesting things. I saw some very red Christmas lichen, which is usually pink around here. I saw a rather large owl at a close distance that stared at me long enough for me to wave, but not long enough for me to take its picture or get an autograph. I also saw a tiny tan skink, a very large burrowing turtle, and a tiny grey-and-black toad. I found a leaf that looked as if it had been bitten by a cookie-cutter shark – which is very unlikely this far inland. I also took a picture of a cluster of two species of lichen on the forest floor that I meant to be the cover picture for this report. It was the best picture I took, but it somehow must have fallen out of my phone because it didn’t make it home. I'm very silly.
I visited Crews Lake Wilderness Park in Shady Hills, Florida in January 2015, a strange land of brightly colored plants, elusive dwarf people, and magic rocks. My adventure started when the road to the park was closed and I had to take a detour. Once inside, I drove to the far end and parked near the lake, which to me seemed more like a swamp. I walked on the pier and saw reeds, lily pads, and many tiny fish. In the distance was a flock of white birds, but I saw no other life. Then I climbed the observation tower and took the picture above. Walking back towards the entrance, I crossed a ball field and a playground. There was also a basketball court, but little else of note. Walking along the road looking for the trail entrances I saw driving in, I first came across this dwarf railroad: Finally I found some clearings to the left, which turned out to be campsites. These led to a trail I took clockwise around the park, finally following the railroad back. The park seemed smaller than I expected. It was just a bit boring. I saw no flowers, no birds, no squirrels, no lizards, no snakes, and almost no insects. The great thing about the outdoors in January is that there are no bugs, but the bad thing about the outdoors in January is that there are no bugs. Strangely, many of the roots appeared to be painted. At first, I only saw pink, but later I saw combinations of yellow, green, orange, and pink. Later, I saw yellow roots – some just feet away from unpainted, grey roots. It was very mysterious I also saw this clump of brightly colored moss in a parking lot: Yes, I know it isn’t really moss. I’m not stupid, I just play one on TV. Back near my car, I saw this mystical doorway to another universe: The highlight of the trip was this smooth rock with geometric patterns carved into it. It must be some sort of enchanted magical stone, because I swear I saw it move!
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AuthorMy name is Dan. I am an author, artist, explorer, and contemplator of subjects large and small. Archives
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