The beach is more than just waves

A day at Smyrna Dunes Park.

The park sits on a peninsula between the Atlantic Ocean, Ponce Inlet, and the Indian River, providing a little cross-section of "real Florida" from beach and sand dunes to low scrub and oaky woodlands. It's not your typical postcard paradise, but it's sun-soaked and primeval and unpretentious, and I love it.

Shall we?

Walkways leading down to the river, and a view of the Ponce de Leon lighthouse across the inlet.

In hot, dry weather, the field at the center of the park looks like a vast desert — but you can just barely see the ocean over its horizon.

In the back is the lighthouse. Just beneath the bottom edge, a crotchety gopher tortoise.

We come down Big Sand Mountain at this mysterious ziggurat, which marks the descent into colorful scrubland.

The walk winds under sunny, cozy trees ... and not so friendly ones.

The fairies back here are wearing bikinis and big straw hats.

And one final reason why I love it here:

Hot surfer boys. 'Nuff said. :)

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NO UNICYCLES

More from our late afternoon at upper Buttermilk Falls. It had started out cold and rainy that day, the Day of the Twins' Birthday Bonanzafest, but by 4:30 was quite nice again.

THEY HAVE A CAVE TROLL.

RUN, YOU FOOLS!

This, right here, is what I moved back for. A soft summer dusk when the whole world turns blue and green and quiet.

Lucy Honeychurch is just off to the left somewhere.


'nuff said.

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FAERIES!

They're in there.
I couldn't believe it when I stumbled across this field of bluebells with my friend Deb the other day, at Buttermilk Falls. I felt like I was in a Merchant/Ivory movie for a moment. Had Julian Sands strolled up in a linen suit, hat in hand, it would have made perfect sense.

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Lunchtime

Could it be coincidence? A mere step in the monumental dance of chance and destiny? Or was there some sort of deeper, unfathomable meaning underlying our meal that day, waiting quiveringly for us to crack apart our chopsticks and unleash the blinding bamboo truth?



All I know is, the kung pao tofu was particularly good that afternoon.

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A Millie Twofer

Millie's post-bath annoyance was so great that it warped space-time around her in spiky sympathy.



Dude, you gonna share that?

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Get Fuzzier

Ode to a Video Wombat
after Dante Gabriel Rossetti

O how the workaday distractions combat
Within these walls, and each hour flings a memo at
My borèd soul! Neither from blog nor from chat
Can the funni be gained until I view my wombat.

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