This would be Joe’s topic...and one would think, since I have spent a great deal of my life, in and around Florida, I would have a lot to say about the state. Ever since he selected the topic, I have been wracking my brain about what I want to say. And I guess this is what has come up for me...there are like at least six different types of Floridas to be had:
There is the Big City Florida: Miami, Tampa, Orlando and Jacksonville (all with a decidedly different flavor to be sure).
There is the Island Life Florida that is The Keys.
There is the Horse Life Florida that is Ocala.
There is the Uber Wealthy Florida life that is Palm Beach (and other places).
There is the Redneck, Very Southern, like really Southern Georgia, Florida.
And there is the Old People Florida...or as I like to call it, God’s Waiting Room Florida.
And though I have experience with all of the many types of Floridas, I want to talk about Florida number five, or as I like to call it, Redneck Florida. Now, I picked this one because I have lived the longest in this part of Florida and spent many formative years in this particular locale. And I have to say it is by far my most favorite place in the whole state.
It is hilly, and the typography more closely resembles Georgia or Alabama than it does the rest of the state. It is steeped in Southern comfort: hot boiled peanuts, RC cola and moonpies. It is full of the flavor of the South, with great southern cooking so rich and good that it can stop your heart on a dime (not in a good way).
Probably my most favorite part of the Redneck Riveria is Wakulla Springs. A natural spring that is some of the most idyllic land you have ever laid eyes on. It is largely unspoiled, natural, raw Florida, the kind of land that has been there for centuries. If you have never canoed the Wakulla River with some RC colas, moonpies and hot boiled peanuts, well, then you just haven’t lived.
You can paddle around the river with manatees and gators. There are Bald Eagles and Ospreys dive bombing all around, fishing and living their best lives. There are Anhingas (snake neck birds) that make you truly believe that birds are the ancestors of the dinosaurs that came before. The water is crystalline and you can see all the way to the bottom. There are snakes and turtles and deer, and great blue herons and snowy egrets. The river is teeming with wild and wild life. And if you are so blessed as to ever find your way there, you too can paddle up stream and take in a place that time forgot.
This is the only place I have ever been in Florida that I am sure looks pretty much the same as it always has. Sandy shores, blue water, animals abound. And if you are really, really lucky, you just might have a mullet jump into your boat and Viola! You have your dinner all good to go. No hook or pole required. Trust me I have seen it happen, more than once.
And on a lucky day, you can be the only one out there. Just you, your canoe, manatees and a great number of birds. I have been out on that river alone. Floating by, leaning back in my canoe and just floating downstream...watching nature do its thing. Watching the knobby Cypress knees dot the sides, and sometimes make a daring stand right in the middle of the dreamy Wakulla.
There is a State Park where you can get an ice cream soda from a soda fountain that was likely built in the 1950s. The lodge is old and sits up on the banks and overlooks the meandering river that teems with life and wild abandon. It is one of the most favorite places I have ever been in my life. It is a spiritual center for me, despite all the rednecks and their trucks that on a sunny Saturday, pollute the river with their gas boats, weed, Budweiser and blaring CCR.
But even those days, the Wakulla shines through and shows us all that we matter only a little. That this wild land is home to many but belongs to none. It is not theirs and it is not ours. We are only temporary passengers on her glassy surface.
I fell in love with the river and on the river. I got drunk (that actually happened many times - I might have been on one of those redneck boats a couple of times...) on that river and I have sailed it stone cold sober. I have traversed it solo and I have paddled on SUPs with a wild gang of women. I have enjoyed many a sunny day and I have paddled for my life when a sudden thunderstorm rolled in hot and fast. I have done a lot of things in my life, I have seen many vistas, and I have done many deeds, and I can tell you that there was never a better use of my life or time than those times I spent on the Wakulla.
If I ever go missing, and you know I am not really dead, just gone away from all the peoples and their internets and instant messages and the attendant drama that plagues it all. You might, if you were so inclined, look for me there on the Wakulla, living out the end of my days, listening to the gators grunt through the night, waiting for the splash of a Mullet jumping, the cry of an Osprey reminding me of things I can never really know, only guess, the slow but steady movement of a Manatee that Is really more like standing still or the fearsome groan of a gator as darkness descends. I can tell you that there is no better place in the whole state, than right there sitting on the dock of the Wakulla, watching the times roll away...
Again...still, always.
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