Monday, July 21, 2008
Back in New York now, safe and sound after visiting the family in Florida. I had a great time, despite choosing one of the rainiest weeks in recent memory as my week to visit. Anyone who’s ever been in a Florida rainstorm knows they can get a little crazy, and I had to drive through one in particular that was like a half-hour-long car wash. (Me with my rusty driving skills!)
I love those storms, though -- their power and the blasted-clean feeling of the landscape after they pass. They cool things down and remove that hot, sweaty stickiness from the air. (Well, as much as it can be removed.)
I love Florida in general. It still feels like home to me. I know it so intimately -- all the lush summery grassy smells, and the plants and bugs and birds, and the architecture of the clouds. New York feels like home too, but in a different way -- culturally, maybe, and intellectually. Florida feels like home viscerally.
I always tell people I wouldn’t move back, but who knows. As my life’s circumstances change, anything is possible. I certainly still have roots there. The downside is, so much of what I love about Florida is constantly under siege -- the landscape, the flora and fauna, the old cracker culture. It can be a painful place to live, watching all of that fall to bulldozers.
The two sightseeing highlights of the week were going to Dunedin and Clearwater Beach with my mom, brother, sister-in-law and adorable niece, and driving up the coast from Tarpon Springs to Hernando County on a different day with my mom. I also saw lots of friends and spent time with my dad and my family on his side.
And now, back to the grind!
(Photos: Top, coastal Hernando County, Fla.; bottom, sponge boats in Tarpon Springs.)