Tag Archives: alligators

Aunt Grace’s Homeland

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

March 26, 2022, Naples, Florida- The sweet-spirited young woman was glad as heck, that someone entered her family’s small cafe, just as she was opening the door to business. I felt like royalty, being welcomed as if I was the first soul in years to stop by. It didn’t hurt that she had a gorgeous smile and a barely concealed measure of confidence. When I ordered coffee and a piece of fry bread, (a staple among the Miccosukee, as well as among First Nations people around the United States and Canada-a testimony to the creative use of worm-shot flour, back in the Nineteenth Century.), J placed the order for the bread and turned to her uncle and me, admitting that she only knew how to use a Keurig. Uncle D was nonplussed, and calmly showed his teenaged niece how to make coffee using a drip system. Her coffee was superb, as was her mother’s fry bread.

These are the extended family of my late Aunt Grace, who left Big Cypress after World War II, and never returned, even after leaving her husband. Gracie was content to raise her five children and work as a waitress at a discount department store’s lunch counter, until she died a few years back, at age 90. She was pleased when I went to work with other First Nations people, though. She was quiet. but firm in her assessment of things- much like young J.

The Miccosukee are a southern branch of the Seminole, who came to central and southern Florida in the 1700s, and are the branch of Seminole who managed to elude Andrew Jackson’s forces, when he was appointed military governor of Florida, in 1821. Today, they live along the Tamiami Trail and in sections of the Everglades and Big Cypress natural preserves. No sane United States official, today, would recommend moving these careful stewards from the Federal lands. South Florida is rightly viewed as a proving ground for our species’ commitment to conserving water and all other living natural resources.

I spent about an hour in Osceola Panther, as Uncle D’s small village and store are called. Here are some of the scenes from the store and along the Tamiami Canal outside.

Traditional Miccosukee Spirit Mask
Traditional Miccosukee family
Tamiami Canal, at Osceola Panther
Miccosukee shade chickee

Another hour was spent, up the road, at Big Cypress National Preserve, which offers extensive programs to educate the public on the intertwining topographic areas of savanna and wetlands, which comprise most of southern and central Florida.

Here are a few scenes of everyone’s favourite swamp creature: The alligator.

Alligator feeding at Big Cypress National Preserve
Two alligators at rest.
Juvenile alligator, looking for food

The heat became a bit enervating, after noon, when I found myself dealing with the hyper-energy of Naples, southwest Florida’s southern anchor community. Here, I found that I had returned to suburbia, intense high-speed traffic and people who had scant patience for one another. After a brief preliminary visit to Naples’ excellent Botanical Garden, I rested, took in a Baha’i planning session and rested more.

The Road to 65, Mile 77: As Luck Does Have It

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Social, Travel

July 13, 2015- Panama City, FL Yes, I believe from now on, I will add location to my datelines.  I am back on track, writing, after several days of focusing just on what’s in front of me.  Today, I connected with two friends:  One, an extended family member who’s in an exile, of sorts and the other, an online friend who’s been after me to come by this town, off and on, for the last three years.

So, here I am, in lovely northwest Florida.  The area does seem more soul-connected than some other parts of the Sunshine State, but maybe that’s because its heritage, along with that of St. Augustine and the northeast, runs a bit deeper.  I began my visit by lunching with said family member at Gary’s Oyster Shack, in Springfield, about five miles east of PC.  My eponymous restaurant host was a taciturn sort, a bit reserved, but he and his kids put forth some great Low Country Boil, and a full range of other dishes.  It’s great to be back dining by, and of, the sea.

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After an hour’s conversation, I bid farewell and Godspeed to my friend, and leaded forth to downtown Panama City.  Walking around the seemingly defunct Hawk’s Nest Bar and Grill, I spotted signs that the place was once a fabulous place at which to while away an afternoon, or an evening. The woods outside make for a fine picnic spot.

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Murals most often tell a good story, as this one does.

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Then, there is the front veranda and patio- one of the great appeals of the Coastal South.

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Back along the waterfront, there is a crowded marina- reminder of fishing’s prominence here.

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I walked along the coastal path, crossing a drawbridge- the oldest working such bridge in these parts.

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Towards the end of the road, there were several lovely historical homes.  Some are large, like the Howell/Hobbs House (1909).

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Others were cottage-style, like the McKenzie/Pickens House (1918).

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These homes are in grand proximity to some of the clearest ocean anywhere.

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My host later explained to me that there are pools of fresh water, parallel to the ocean, and that alligators traverse between the two water supplies, feasting on the best of both.

I was in need of a rest, and of wifi, after this fine little outing, and so repaired to Willows British Tea House, just up Harrison Street, as it happens, from the Martin Theater, where I would observe a play practice in a day or so. The awning shows where Willows is located.  There were some ladies inside, who did not wish to be photographed, so this is as close as I choose to show the lovely establishment.  Here, I finally connected with my host, and arranged to meet her at the Martin.  After a refreshing pot of orange tea and a piece of lemon cake, I headed for the theater.

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Here is a scene from the Martin Theater’s lobby.  It has a long exchequer of fine performances, and still serves as Panama City’s center for showing art cinema.

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That evening, after a marvelous meal of gumbo and rice, Kelly, Fernando and I headed for Kaleidoscope Theater and watched a pleasing, though overlong, production of a play entitled “There’s A Burglar In My Bed”- a British-style farce, where several people got in one another’s way, mostly in an inadvertent manner.  It’s all great fun.