“A prosthetic leg with a Willie Nelson bumper sticker washed ashore on the beach, which meant it was Florida.
Then it got weird.”
"The Florida peninsula is, in fact, an emerging plateau, honeycombed with voids and vents, caves and underground waterways. Travelers on Interstate Highway I-75 have no idea that, beneath them, are cave labyrinths still being mapped by speleologists - 'cavers,' they prefer to be called." - Randy Wayne White
I saw a sign that said "MASSAGE, ICE CREAM" in bold caps. It was a bicycle shop. I was definitely in Florida. I had skipped the sunshine state during my 2023 cross-country travel adventure (read about that here). I wasn't in the mood at the time for more heat and humidity after a North Carolina summer. In January when the temperatures began to drop at home, it seemed like a good time to steer my car toward the land of alligators on a mission to see the wintering manatees in the crystal clear springs of the central gulf coast.
My first destination was Three Sisters Spring in Crystal Springs, FL. Since I am one of three sisters in my family, it seemed like a fortuitous destination. Once there, I was rewarded with a vision of other-worldly aqua blue pools bordered by vivid green palms, but no manatees. I was informed by the helpful volunteers that the manatees head out to the bay during the day to feed, returning to the springs at high tide to rest and warm up.
To while away the time before high tide, I decided to drive down the coast to see the Ringling (of circus fame) mansion and museum and Homosassa Springs. All along the central gulf coast you can see relics of a bygone era of roadside attractions and gimmicky marketing. In the forties, Homosassa Springs was a tourist attraction filled with exotic animals including monkeys and a hippopotamus. I took the $3 riverboat ride complete with tour guide to learn about the history of the park. Though the monkeys were no longer swinging from the vines, I still felt like I was going back in time to the Florida of the past. I saw manatees here, but not in abundance, possibly because it was still not yet high tide.
When I returned to Three Sisters later in the afternoon, over a hundred manatees were
making their way slowly from bay to canal to the springs past curious onlookers on the boardwalk and in kayaks and scuba gear. Seeing the massive animals floating around in the clear water was just as magical as I imagined. The sea cows, as they are nicknamed, are completely docile, curious, and peaceful - definitely "Type B" personalities. Thank goodness for the volunteers and financial supporters for making sure the manatees always have a suitable winter refuge.
On the following day, a fierce storm raged, shaking my tiny Airbnb house on its footers. Due to tornado warnings, I was forced to stay in and hunker down. What better time to get out my paints? Here's the painting I created that afternoon inspired by the magical mood of the springs. I also included some of my Florida impressions below which I jotted down in my notebook along the way.
In Florida...
I saw manatees lounging lazily in crystal blue springs, with no jobs;) I saw a snowy white egret aloft above the highway, a flat round fish
I saw banyan trees absurdly sending branches back down into the ground forming fortresses and jails with bough bars and strangler figs hugging palm trees slowly to death in overzealous protection.
I saw the costume worn by a Wallenda as he flew through the air with the greatest of ease. It was in a glass case, moth-eaten, dusty and stationary.
The air smelled alternately of sulphur, marijuana, a sewer, the sea, and then a sweet tropical flower.
Spanish moss hung everywhere. Shells, wet and whole, washed ashore. Feral pigs congregated. There were roadside trailers, pain management clinics, and conspicuous wealth. The skies were rounder, the clouds more contrasted. The palms rattled their dry fronds and the seagulls screeched.
I drove down a silent empty dirt road bordered by black swamp water, palmettos, and pines looking for an ancient cyprus which did not appear before my fear of the untamed wilderness made me turn back.
I gazed out at the ocean buoyed by the waves and calmed by the tide.
- Arianne, January 2024
