Okay. That first post was rather lengthy. I'll try to keep it brief. I am a rather prolific writer which tends to surprise people --sometimes even frighten them. I never have a problem with meeting a limit. My problem lies in keeping it to the limit. Whenever I worry I might not have enough to say, my friends laugh. See? Off I went on another tangent. Okay down to business.

Our next entry should reflect upon our sense of place and how it relates to our educational experiences out of doors. I think I covered some of that in my first blog entry. I'm a native Floridian and have had many experiences out of doors. I camped with the Girl Scouts in various places around Florida from the Keys to Arcadia. We used to camp out at the edge of the Naples airport at Camp Timberwood. Now that campground is gone --part of the airport now, I think. I used to troll the beach with my parents and friends and loved to go boating. My parents had a sailboat and so did my paternal grandparents. There are photos of me as baby sleeping on the boat. I've been on school field-trips to beachy coves full of hidden nature, and spent many romantic dates either walking the beach at night or canoeing in the state park. When I was in high school, I used go to the beach at night when I was feeling down or frustrated. There was a crumbling string of wood pilings leading into the water that I used to go out and sit upon to watch the moon. It always felt like I was on a boat, sailing to a distant island.

Though I have had many moments of frustration living in Florida over the years --I hate being hot and a change of seasons would be nice --I feel strongly connected to Florida. When I got my first place, I had to have one of the vintage cottages in downtown Naples near the beach. It was a dream of mine and I achieved it. I loved planting in the garden --lots of native plants of course and getting my hands in the soil. My mom was horrified that I wouldn't wear gloves. I was always getting cut up and one time got attacked by fire ants. But I loved having my hands in the soil. I often walked to the beach and would take long walks up and down the streets and cozy back alleys. My cottage was hot and dusty with only a window air unit, and I might have been able to see sunlight through the floorboards, but I loved it! And the experience made me love Florida all over again. I know one day I intend to leave Florida, but I will be sad when I do. Though, it may not matter. As we learned in class, if things continue as there are and the Greenland ice sheet melts, my beloved Naples will be underwater in forty or fifty years.