Landscape Looting, Sweat Equity, and a New Way of Living

One day not long ago, a pair of walkers packed up all of their worldly belongings and set off to find their fame and fortune in Tallahassee. They thought that their modest home and garden near Pensacola would be in good hands with an experienced property manager watching over them. He promised that the tenants he had found would take care of and cherish this landscape the walkers considered was truly sweat equity.

Would it be okay if the tenants were to add a few plants of their own? They love to garden, you say? Well, then, what's a few more plants?

Oh! We see (courtesy of a concerned neighbor and friend). They've moved--among many things--mature, fruit-bearing trees during a drought to make room for their "few more plants." And they promise to change it back to the way it was if they decide they don't like it here. Nice thought! It would require way more than "seven maids with seven mops" (see below) to accomplish that feat.

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand:
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear...

(excerpt from Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass, 1871)

The same weekend that the pair of walkers were packing up all of their worldly belongings to seek their fame and fortune in Tallahassee, their pride and joy (Son and Daughter) were graduating together from Pensacola State College. No bitter tears shed here.

By the time all that pomp and circumstance was said and done, though, there weren't many dry eyes in the place.

 Brother and sister graduating at the same time. One more step, completed together.

SAM has taken to the new way of living on a lake like...well, a fish takes to water! The landscape here suits him just fine.

This walker, for as long as she's allowed, will follow the eldest Oyster's example and stay put for a while. And this latest "oyster-bed" will not be disturbed. Even if she could afford "seven maids with seven mops," no sand sweeping (landscape looting) is necessary or desired.

NN/SOTS: Bellying Up to the (Oil Slick) Bar--The Tweedledum/Tweedledee Dilemma

The Write Gardener is observant (smart, too!). He noted in a comment on my last post that I never said "what it were" that had broken my heart. Is it ever just one thing? By the time you reach middle age, life gets so complicated that it couldn't possibly be just one thing. One thing can't make you happy. "Contrariwise" (as someone wise once said--think Through the Looking-Glass), one thing doesn't break your heart. Take this bivalve, for example--or what's left of it. It's a cockle shell, maybe a Van Hyning's cockle (Dinocardium robustum vanhyningi), less than half or just one part of the whole animal. It's missing the best part, the thing that kept it alive and held it together. Daughter and I found it Wednesday evening on the beach down by Fort Pickens. She had the day off from work, and we wanted to see the white sandy beach one more time and maybe have a margarita together in honor of Cinco de Mayo. The boardwalk on Quietwater Beach was practically deserted, and the bartender at Bamboo Willie's was more interested in watching the barmaids and the gals standing outside Hooters' next door than serving a middle-aged woman, even if she was accompanied by a pretty, young one. We left after about ten minutes and bought our own margarita fixins' at the Publix on the way home. The drinks were cheaper and better anyway. Before we left the boardwalk, I overheard someone say that the tourists are staying away in droves. Maybe the wildlife that's left here and there among the high-rise condos, restaurants, and bars will get a rest from all the traffic and noise. That's my foot, by the way, toenails not polished yet. I'm still trying to find that perfect Verbena purple...

...or perhaps Portugese Man O'War blue.

Daughter is just as fond as I am of walking, but she steps to the beat of a different drummer when it comes to unsolicited advice, even if it's just about wearing shoes on the beach. She insisted on walking barefoot, at least until we saw that Man O'War. She has always been a strong-willed child, and she won't change just to suit me, thank goodness. In fact, she won't change to suit anyone--person, that is. I guess that's why things didn't work out so well for her and Mr. T. Maybe she does take after me, now that I think about it. I'm not happy about the recent Gulf oil slick, but I'm not angry at BP for causing it. Why should I be? I live in Florida, a complex and sensitive collection of ecosystems. I leave a footprint here, a footprint there, a footprint everywhere I go, especially while driving a car. Anyone who lives on the coast or near a body of water should know that living the good life with all of its amenities has a huge impact on a fragile environment. You would think that people have forgotten, though, with all of the hateful words being aimed at BP and Big Oil in general. They're being held accountable for every bird, fish, or turtle that dies now or in the future. I guess that all of the frenzied coastal and waterfront construction and subsequent devastation to wildlife due to loss of habitat and poisoning it over the course of several decades don't count in the same way. If people were honest about it, they would see that it's like Tweedledum or Tweedledee--essentially the same though different. We lovers of waterways want to have our cake--or seafood--and eat it too. And if it makes us sick, well, let's find someone else to blame. Someone else needs to belly up to the bar and pay for it. Only it isn't that simple. If BP gets punched in the eye, guess who else gets black-and-blue? We all do. Oil prices go up, and investors get even more uneasy. An already fragile economy teeters closer to the edge of a precipice. So, let's say we don't have any more oil exploration. I don't think we have a viable alternative to the messy stuff yet.  

Now, about that eating... Think about what happens to what you've eaten after a few days. Sure, it goes through a water treatment facility, where it gets treated with chemicals and mixed with who-knows-what else that goes down thousands of other drains. Or, maybe you have a septic system on your property like we do, in good working order, of course! Where does all of that you-know-what in various stages of "clean" eventually end up? The Gulf or some other ocean. Yes, I know I'm being crude here, but we're all in this life together. It takes more than one thing or company or industry to make a mess. We live in a composite world, and it ain't always "the berries." Can't we all get along, make the best of a bad situation, leave off thinking terrible thoughts about each other or--even worse--threatening each other with lawsuits, curses, and bombs? So, I have been broken-hearted lately. Is it the curse of being empathic? I don't know. There is a whole lot of negativity swirling around in this old world lately.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee
Agreed to have a battle;
For Tweedledum said Tweedledee
Had spoiled his nice new rattle.

Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
As black as a tar-barrel;
Which frightened both the heroes so,
They quite forgot their quarrel.

--from Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass--

Sunset at Fort Pickens, May 5, 2010

Please visit Ramblingwoods.com for this week's Nature Notes/Signs of the Season post and links to other posts by bloggers like me (or not, as the case may be)--which is as it should be, don't you think? It would be too boring if we were all exactly alike. 

NN/SOTS: Break Free Through the Looking Glass

"The piece I'm going to repeat," he went on without noticing her remark, "was written entirely for your amusement."

Alice felt that in that case she really ought to listen to it; so she sat down, and said "Thank you" rather sadly,

"In winter, when the fields are white,

I sing this song for your delight--

only I don't sing it," he added, as an explanation.

"I see you don't," said Alice.

"If you can see whether I'm singing or not, you've sharper eyes than most," Humpty Dumpty remarked severely. Alice was silent.

"In spring, when woods are getting green,

I'll try and tell you what I mean..."

(from Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll, Chapter VI, Humpty Dumpty, 1871)

I know that many of you are still digging out of the ice and snow. If you manage to break free, make sure to visit Northwest Florida this Saturday, March 6, so you can participate in the annual Forestry Conclave and Lumberjack Festival in Milton on the Pensacola Junior College campus. It truly is one of those participatory festivals, even if the only thing you can do is tap your foot to the bluegrass music, cheer on some of the lumberjacks in the various competitions, or smile and say hello to one of the volunteers making it all happen. Yours truly will be (wo)manning one of the booths for part of the afternoon. I'll let you guess which one it is. Hints: It's a natural extension of something I love to do, and try as I might, I'll never be a master at it.

The two photos on this post--don't you just love a brevity break?--were taken while hiking the Bear Creek Trail and Ravine Trail on the Bear Creek Tract--part of the Lake Talquin State Forest--near Tallahassee last weekend. It's a fascinating place with many habitats and woodland features to explore. SAM and I liked it so well that we visited it on Saturday and Sunday. I took this second picture on Saturday which was cloudy and cold. On Sunday, as you can see from the first photo, the sun broke free of the clouds and at least gave us the impression that warmer days are ahead. That tree, named musclewood for obvious reasons (although this site calls it "hornbeam"), gave me the impression that I need to start lifting some weights again. 

Please visit Ramblingwoods.com for another Nature Notes/Signs of the Season post and make a point of visiting the various bloggers who have participated this week and added a link.

Juniper Creek Trail--A Chuck-Norris-Yet-Curious-George Kind of Place

I don't advocate eating wild mushrooms, but finding some with eerily familiar shapes on Juniper Creek Trail last week sent my imagination soaring to new heights. The first one you see here looks a lot like a meringue, don't you think? It's only missing those glistening drops that form as the meringue cools after baking.

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"To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said

'I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head.

Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be,

Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!'"



Daughter and SAM spotted this one before I did. It could be a veritable feast in the eyes of a survivalist slowly running out of provisions after weeks in the forest. A chicken for every pot, you say? Who needs meat when there's so much soul-food to find along the trail? As Steinbeck's Lennie would say, you could "live off the fatta the lan' " right here.

And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:--

"Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,

And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:

Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea--

And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!"

Angling for the right to be noticed, this wild Blazing Star, Liatris tenuifolia--a member of the Aster family--grows abundantly along the sunnier meadow portions of the trail, not far from where it begins at the tiny parking area. At this time of year, be sure to douse yourself with insect repellant. Once you leave the more open meadow environment and enter the close woods, the flora begins to change, and the fauna with an appetite for human blood will start to annoy you. Actually, there is no "off" season in Florida for those pesky things. You've got to really love the heat--and bugs--to stay in this kitchen. Of course, there are silver linings to every cloud of mosquitoes. Once in a while, you'll find a delicate wildflower like the Climbing Butterfly-Pea, Centrosema virginianum, to take your mind off your troubles.

Then followed a confused noise of cheering, and Alice thought to herself "Thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if any one's counting?" In a minute there was silence again, and the same shrill voice sang another verse:--

" 'O Looking-Glass creatures,' quoth Alice, 'draw near!

'Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear:

'Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea

Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!' "

You might think the water here is made out of iced tea. It's certainly cold enough, and the tannin that comes from the native oaks gives it a warm gold color, especially on a sunny autumn day. The first inhabitants and then the white settlers who came later found tannin to be quite useful for preserving animal hides and maybe even their own. Mixed with animal fat and some other useful, stinky ingredients, it protected them from stinging, biting insects and too much sun exposure. I wonder what the SPF might have been?

Then came the chorus again:--

"Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,

Or anything else that is pleasant to drink:

Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine--

And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine!"


It's kind of sad to think that part of the trail is slowly slipping away, steadily eroding into the river and eventually washing out to sea. On the drive down to the wilderness area, we passed some construction (destruction?) workers cutting trees and removing their stumps from a parcel of land nearby. I hope that whatever they're building is worth the price, and I'm not talking about money. It's hard to say if Florida will ever do a "180" (degree turn) on land consumption. Construction around where we live has almost ground to a halt, which isn't too good for the local economy, but at least the land gets a much-needed shabbath, or rest.

When I zoomed in on the eroded hill, I saw that someone had left his or her mark behind for the whole world to see. I wonder how many years "BJ" will be around for future hikers to find?

"Ninety times nine!" Alice repeated in despair. "Oh, that'll never be done! I'd better go in at once--" and in she went, and there was a dead silence the moment she appeared. Alice glanced nervously along the table, as she walked up the large hall, and noticed that there were about fifty guests, of all kinds: some were animals, some birds, and there were even a few flowers among them. "I'm glad they've come without waiting to be asked," she thought: "I should never have known who were the right people to invite!"

After a long stretch of trail, even iced-tea water starts to look inviting. Not too far past this sand bar where we took off our shoes and waded in, a shelter--built by Boy Scouts--awaits the weary walkers, and there are surprises to be found inside it--no, not the Man in the Yellow Shirt and the girl in the blue shorts.

Curious-George bloggers like to read what other people have to say about this place. What did they see, and what were their impressions of it?

Some thoughtful people are trying to encourage a conversation here.

I hope that Chuck Norris enjoyed our little corner of Florida. I'd like to think that you "Go with God" too, Mr. N--whoever you are--when you walk the trails.