If ever I had a cabin ....

I would build me something along these lines. Something hugging the wilderness and tight within a natural surrounding.  We are here now, in the Redwoods, staying in this cabin for a week while visiting family in Woodacre, California.

From the photos, you might not be able to hear the song birds, or see the enormous roaming mountain gorillas, but I promise you, they are all there.

'Big Pass' property decimated.

Now, let me just preface this by saying, our old friend Winnie-the-Pooh would have recognized this area's surroundings as a "hundred acre wood".

What used to be called Shell Road, now Higel Avenue on Siesta Key, has always been a unique place - a pristine wooded seascape bordering on the Gulf of Mexico. Right now a large chunk stands naked, clear-cut and totally removed from it's natural past.  Native old-growth trees and a few non-natives were all uprooted, mowed down and bulldozed; and all removed within ten days.

Sixty plus years of my old stompin' grounds along Shell Road, Big Pass and the Gulf are gone. And, leaving behind, a Siesta Key that never was. A catastrophic hurricane couldn't have done more. Damn builders, developers, and selfish new homeowners - damn them all.

Billy update; (from january 24th)

This afternoon, after having been out of town for a week, I checked up on my old buddy, Billy "the Birdman".

Up at the north bridge, I found Billy whistling for one of his new offspring - the young Osprey fledgling - Henry.  Who, just being skyward, now acrobatically swooped down within inches of the bay's surface, then suddenly turning his wings outward and radically upward - responded to his call.

"Yesterday, I probably had eleven kids come by and visit. And so many, after reading about my arrest, keep stopping by to give me a little extra. I hate that money, so I always refuse".

Billy appears just a bit more sun burnt, but doin' well - and his new young "Henry" looks to be very fast, and well fed.

(Edit note)  Sunday the 23rd - four days later

As I was coming back over the bridge last night, after buying some smokes, I noticed three police cruisers parked at the 'bridge' park, lights on and engines running.

Swung back and found an irate young family standing around their pick-up, which was backed up, close to the seawall. Apparently Billy had objected to their loud music and had threatened them. Besides the officers, a supervisor was called and after a forty minute determination, one of the cops told me to remind Billy, "he has 48 hours to pack it up, all of his belongings - and move along".

Outside, early this morning from all around my lagoon, the chatter from the nearby Osprey's was particularly loud and vocal. So much so, that those nesting family Osprey's drowned out all of the typical songs from my vocal yard birds that normally greet me at sunrise.

Sea Grapes

With a cooler than normal spring this year, the Sea Grapes are hanging heavy.

It's been probably thirty years since I last picked, cooked and prepared Sea Grape jam in my old kitchen. And all, way before Smuckers. All about the same time I was baking my own heavy bread to spread it on. And, that was way before Pepperidge Farms.

Looking at the abundant harvest now, I'm feelin' a little lazy, but it certainly reminded me of that long ordeal and a reminder of some of those old survival pleasures from the past.

Poconos & the grandkids

Lustgarten-On-The-Lake;  Dustin & Neve playing 'catch the skunk'.
 

Neve;  gentile love of all things wild.

Cali;  "What big eyes you have".

Dustin;  in his hunt mode who will kill anything that moves.

And Kaya;  removed from it all. Texting someone far, far-away.

So, I finally went to visit Maynard

A year ago, I told Maynard I would come visit him, but only by water. A four hour long return trip, up into Sarasota's north bay - and I finally just went for it.  He always teases me about being able to out paddle me kayaking, against my little 2 HP canoe, but I knew better. But, I really think he secretly just wanted me to come by and see his special, 'newly prized' Venus Fly Trap.  Our families go way back.