In the Season of Sea Oats

I am beginning to notice subtle changes in my landscape lately.

Although I lived close to the ocean in Palm Coast, having grown up in Silver Springs, a good hour and a half from the ocean, I had never lived THIS close to an ocean, ever. Ask me about Spanish moss, huge granddaddy oaks, clear and deep water rivers, cypress trees and eel grass – that stuff I know intimately from years of traipsing through cypress swamps and hardwood hammocks with my dog, Sandy.

I drive A1A to work every morning, and I see the ocean every single day. The stretch I most love is the protected North Shore Peninsula, Gamble Rogers State Park. It is breathtakingly serene most days, and this month, the sea oats are phenomenal. They are protected by state law - you cannot pick them - and they are covering the small dunes that line the ocean side of A1A.

Any breeze, no matter how subtle, causes the beach grass to sway and lilt. Florida's daisy-esque state flower, the coreopsis, which range from yellow to brilliant reds and oranges, are in full bloom and literally drape the highway. The palmettos, dense and thick, are the most beautiful shade of sea green, with a few silver varieties thrown in. Here in this area of the state, the beaches are not lily-white, but have a slight orange tinge from the crushed coquina shell.

It is beautiful here.

So, yes, I can understand why the traffic only moves at 40 mph down the one single stretch I need to drive to make it to work on time. The surfers get out early, around 6 a.m., to catch the waves in the early morning light and to secure access to beachside parking areas before the hoards of families move in on them, carrying chairs, coolers, tents, blow-up rafts and brightly-colored beach towels. They usually arrive right at 8 a.m., when I'm on the road to work. If I leave at the Magic Time of 7:45, I can usually avoid most of the bottlenecks. If I leave at 7:55, it's too late. If I stop to shoot a picture...