This morning I joined thirty other volunteers to sort monofilament line at Tampa Bay Watch. Our task was to separate discarded fishing line from trash before cutting off all hooks, weights, and other bits of tackle.

Not only does this project keep fishing line out of the environment (helping to prevent wildlife entanglement) but our debris-free monofilament will be recycled into new line.

A light breeze coming off Mullet Key Bayou kept us comfortable (and wafted away some of the delightful dead fish smell). We cleaned an estimated 139 miles of line this morning! At the end of our project a manatee swam by, I took it as a thank you.

Sometimes in life the best show isn’t on the main stage. Sometimes, like with last night’s sunset, the sideshow tops the main act.

Keep your eyes open for there is beauty all around. Sometimes where you least expect it – like the eastern sky while the sun is setting in the west.

I have three bird baths in my front yard, of varying heights and sizes (in an attempt to appeal to the most discerning of avians). The one on the ground has required extra cleaning lately due to a suspicious amount of dirt in there.

I placed the blame on the raccoon that I know frequents my front yard. So I wasn’t initially surprised when I viewed the footage from my camera and saw the masked bandit scamper by. I was however, surprised by what followed: 4 youngsters!

No wonder it’s such a mess when they leave. Truthfully, I don’t mind at all, I’m just glad that they feel at home in my front yard. 🦝

Westley takes his celebration of Labor Day very seriously (he laboriously practices for this all year long)!

Once again reminding me that if it’s ever possible, I want to come back as a cat! 😹

I encountered this scene a few days ago, during my sunset beach walk. You know it rained a lot when a small lake forms in between the dunes on the beach!

Black Skimmers and various other shorebirds seemed to be enjoying their rare fresh water pond. Soon the water will seep down through the grains of sand and the pool will disappear.

I took it as a reminder to appreciate the moments because they’re fleeting…

Just a few days ago our sunset times dipped below 8pm for the first time since late April. A subtle sign that Fall is on its way (because we certainly can’t rely on temperature or leaf color down here).

I generally time my evening beach walks so that I’m off the sand shortly after the sun slips below the horizon. I dawdled last night, picking up shells and litter. Boy, am I glad I did!

The actual event itself was mellow (see first photo) but 10 minutes later, the sun and clouds put on a technicolor show!

Over the past 5 years I’ve driven through the Cross Creek area multiple times. Alongside the highway are engaging signs, reminding passersby that the locale was the setting for Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings’ The Yearling, a coming-of-age novel (and subsequent movie of the same name).

Though I was intrigued, I’d always been in a hurry so I hadn’t stopped to explore. When I learned that the author’s namesake state park was throwing her a party in honor of her birthday, I made plans to attend.

The first step was to actually read the book. While I’m certain all elementary students in Florida have it assigned, growing up out West, I’d never read any of her work. While I was moved by the story of the pioneer family’s struggles I was completely in awe of her descriptions of the native flora and fauna. They were so detailed that I automatically presumed she was a native Floridian.

You can imagine my astonishment when I learned that she was raised in Washington D.C. and attended college in Wisconsin. Marjorie and her husband didn’t move to Cross Creek until 1928.

As aspiring authors, they had hoped that their newly purchased orange grove near a remote village would allow them plenty of time to write. After 5 years, Chuck decided it was too far removed and left. But Marjorie had fallen in love with the land and the characters that lived there so, they divorced and she stayed.

Learning from her neighbors, Marjorie survived off the land- both cultivated and wild. She tended her farm, hunted game, and gathered food from the forest. All the while typing out stories based on the copious notes she’d taken about the land and her neighbors. Her early writings met with moderate success until The Yearling (which won the Pulitizer Prize for fiction in 1939).

As my friend Alyssa and I wandered the grounds of Marjorie’s restored property it struck me how little the area had changed in the past 90 odd years. Some of the original citrus trees are still setting on fruit and Spanish moss still drapes down from massive live oaks. Traffic buzzes by on the recently widened, nearby highway, but we sure couldn’t hear it.

As we savored the homemade mango ice cream (from Marjorie’s favorite recipe), it occurred to me that though locals had viewed her writings as an invasion of privacy (she borrowed heavily from their lives) the park and surrounding area would not now be protected if it hadn’t been for her elevating the area to fame.

By midday, the sun was brutal so we headed over to The Yearling restaurant for refreshments. It opened in 1952, riding on the popularity of the movie, and still features menu items referred to as Cracker food: fried green tomatoes, fried gator tail, frog legs, venison, cheese grits, okra, and collard greens. The food and (literally) wild decor of the sprawling building are a slice of old Florida, where places once served as roadside attractions to draw in passing motorists.

It’s one of a few that have survived into our modern era, and it’s a treat when I get to visit one, like stepping back in time. I highly recommend stopping in, if you’re ever out that way…