Smells of summer

Enjoying lots of Caprese salads this summer with our delicious fresh basil plant.... Nothing like the fragrance of fresh, organic basil!

Went on a bike ride at the beach today, and I was watching all the people at family or group picnics. It was heartwarming in this day and age to see so many children and adults happy to be spending time together outdoors. It reminded me of when I was a teenager living in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, and my dad would announce that we were all going to the beach. My mom would make burgers or buy chicken for him to grill, and we’d take coolers of food and beverages to one of those public picnic shelters on the beach in Destin. We’d spend the whole day body surfing, building sand castles, and eating the delicious food my dad cooked. He was in his element at the grill and at the beach. And when my sister Lynda would come down with her family from Montgomery, it was even better. The more the merrier! What a simple, blissful time that was. 

I miss my dad. He would be 95 if he were still alive. I know that’s too old to be grilling burgers at the beach, but I miss him anyway. And I miss those happy days of childhood. As one of his favorite entertainers used to say, “Thanks for the memories!"

Save the honeybees!

We had a beehive growing under the fill hatch of our in-ground propane tank. Marcus didn't want the gas company to disturb the hive when they come for the next fill-up, so he called a master beekeeper who came by to check out the hive. She said the queen was very pretty and left this "mobile home" sprayed inside with sugar water. Two days later the queen and more than 95% of her workers had transferred over to their new home and were well on their way to building a new honeycomb. The beekeeper collected the box and transported them to a new, permanent location in the country. So happy to have helped successfully relocate these honeybees. So many are of them are dying off now.

It may have been tiny, but it was juicy and delicious - and homegrown! We grew it in the landscaped bed next to the house. So easy to do in the subtropics!

Breaking bad

One of my guilty pleasures of retirement is being able to watch television series—in their entirety—on Netflix. We’re not big on watching TV series as they air, only because we forget to turn on the television until we go to bed at night. No problem, if you have Netflix online streaming. We don’t even have to wait for a DVD to arrive in the mail. We can catch up on a season in one week—if we can handle the shift in our circadian rhythms. Many is the time we’ve been up until the wee hours of the morning because we have to see “just one more episode.” And retirement allows us to sleep in the following day.

Series we’ve watched on Netflix include Downton Abbey, Call the Midwife, Bramwell, Doc Martin, Monarch of the Glen, All Creatures Great and Small, Last Tango in Halifax, Sherlock, West Wing, and most recently, Breaking Bad. You notice a proclivity to British series? I am mad about good British television.

The problem with immersing yourself in an entire series? When the series ends, you feel as if your family has abandoned you. When I see the cast of Downton Abbey now, after a nine-month hiatus between seasons, I want to sob with joy at having them back in my life again. I want to drop in on Chummy and Peter to see how Baby Fred is getting along (Call the Midwife). I've got a few, choice words for Celia, when I next see her (Last Tango in Halifax). And I find myself wanting to call Josh Lyman (West Wing) and ask him what he’s been up to. (We saw the actor, Bradley Whitford, in Saving Mr. Banks, and couldn’t believe that Josh had taken a job with Disney. What a step down from Chief of Staff at the White House!)

I’m not a complete television addict. There is hope for me. In fact, if you know of a good series I should watch, please don’t tell me. I need to catch up on my sleep!

New gastropub in town

The beer wasn't so great, but the food was delicious!

chicken poppers wrapped in bacon

In my yard...

Get a load of this baby pineapple growing next to our house! That plant has been there since before we moved here four years ago, and I've never seen it produce fruit. I didn't even realize it is a pineapple plant!

SCUBA

Leatherback!

I was walking the beach Thursday night looking for loggerhead turtles. I was a guest of the Florida Oceanographic Society’s turtle scouts whose job it is to locate nesting loggerheads on the beach two nights a week for a permitted, guided turtle walk. The turtle walk begins with a talk on sea turtles at FOS’s Coastal Center on Hutchinson Island and ends (hopefully) by witnessing the actual laying of eggs on the beach. It’s a marvelous program in my hometown of Stuart, Florida, during the months of June and July.

But while we were scouting for loggerheads, we came across something even more unique: a leatherback turtle. There are three species of turtle that nest on the Treasure Coast beaches: leatherbacks, loggerheads, and green turtles. The leatherback and green turtles are endangered, so even if you were to see one hauling herself out of the water, which would be rare just given their numbers, you would not be permitted by law to approach her and observe her nesting. The loggerhead, on the other hand, is only “threatened,” and it is possible to observe one nesting on the beach IF you’re in the presence of a permit-carrying turtle guide.

I have seen loggerheads nest before and hawksbill and green turtles while snorkeling in ten feet of water off the coast of St. John, USVI, but I never thought I’d get to see the largest of all sea turtles, the leatherback, the only remaining species in the genus Dermochelys and considered to be the most quickly declining large animal in modern history.

We stood staring at her for several seconds before comprehending what we were staring at. After walking the beach for an hour and a half scrutinizing every dark mass on the beach, it was a surprise when one of the masses materialized into a turtle. And not just any turtle, it was a mama leatherback the size of a chunky coffee table almost at our feet. They are enormous animals, weighing up to a ton; the sheer size of it startled us into stepping back and allowing it to progress up the dunes alone in search of a nesting place.

Animals give birth every day, but watching these giant reptiles emerge from the ocean (its natural habitat), crawl over the sand (not its natural habitat), and dig a hole in which to deposit her eggs is to witness something awe inspiring. Have you ever seen the flippers of a sea turtle? You just try crawling over abandoned sand castles and escarpments left by storm surges on those paddles! Then, try digging a hole with them!! (My turtle scout companion once witnessed a loggerhead with only one rear flipper dig her nest in the sand.) Despite the obstacles, they have an amazing capacity to persevere. And then, by no means the easy part, they give birth, rest for a bit, cover their nests and pack them down to protect them from predators, and make the slow trek back to the ocean, never to see their babies hatch. Thousands of eggs, laid in batches of 50-100, so that one turtle may survive to adulthood. Given the odds, it truly is a miracle!

Food Truck Invasion!

Finally! Food trucks have arrived in Martin County. With one son living in Portland, OR, and the other in Austin, TX, we have been food truck fans for years. Although an article in the local paper stated that food truck popularity arose from the recent recession, they have been alive and well in Portland and Austin since well before the recession. Maybe Stuart is just not weird enough. (Portland and Austin have a friendly Keep-our-city-weird competition going on. What does it say that my two children chose to live in these cities?)

The food trucks invade Stuart’s Memorial Park every Monday evening this summer from 5:00 until 9:30. Bring some friends, lawn chairs, bug spray, and maybe an umbrella (for either rain or shine), and enjoy. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried the Banh Mi (Asian barbecued pork sandwich)!

The birds are back!

We left Stuart last September to spend a couple of weeks in Nevada and California. During that time, the Army Corps of Engineers determined that Lake Okeechobee was approaching dangerous depths - 15 feet - and posed a risk to the surrounding area by threatening to burst its seams (the dikes) and cause devastating flooding. They started bleeding the polluted lake through its two major arteries, the Caloosahatchee River to the west and the St. Lucie River to the east, in order to relieve the pressure. 

When we got home from our trip at the beginning of October, we looked forward to going out on the boat. Friends told us not to bother; the waterways (not only the St. Lucie River, but also the Indian River Lagoon and the St. Lucie inlet) were a disgusting mess, and the Corps was still bleeding the lake.

We waited patiently for the bleeding to stop, but it continued another month. We made frequent trips down to our dock during that time, and what we saw broke our hearts. The bait fish had left the river, and so did the birds and our beloved dolphins who ate them. 

We have no idea what has happened to the oyster beds that locals were working so hard to restore. I read that an adult oyster, which can filter up to 50 gallons of water a day, would not survive three months in the freshwater river we now had. (The salinity level, which usually hovers in the teens (parts per thousand), was then around 0.5 - essentially fresh water.)

They finally stopped bleeding the lake during the first week of November. We went out on the boat a month later. The river still felt like a cemetery. 

Last week we went out again. As soon as we got down to the dock, we felt the difference. The birds were back! Huge flocks of terns. We watched a pelican try to swallow a fish that seemed way too big, even for its flexible throat pouch. And - wonder of wonders - our great blue heron was wading along the shore by our dock eyeing the fish in the shallows.

Dolphins? Not yet, but we are hopeful. Where there are bait fish, there is hope.

Soundtrack to my life

I had a life's soundtrack moment yesterday boating and snorkeling on the intracoastal waterway when the Foo Fighters' "Ain't It the Life" came on.

Reason #4: Viva la difference!

When I lived in New England, I didn’t mind the winters. The longer the cold, gray months of winter dragged on, the more resplendent the spring, summer, and fall. I think I was the only New Englander who loved snow. (I had to be careful who I confided that bit of information to; my mental health was often held in question after that confession.)

Summer is Florida’s winter, and I mentally prepared myself upon moving here two years ago to spend the summers indoors just as I would spend the winters indoors in New England. Only I had two aging dogs to walk two years ago. In the middle of the day. Approximately five times in the middle of the day. In the heat and humidity. So much for staying indoors.

The first summer was brutal. I know I wasn’t acclimated to this climate yet, but I still contend that the summer of 2010 was an exceptionally hot one. I get a lot of blank looks from the natives when I say that. Delineating hot, hotter, and hottest has no meaning to a Florida native.

Last summer we had the great benefit of spending the summer in Reno, Nevada. Like jumping from the frying pan into the fire? Not exactly. It’s a dry heat. Even the dog (we were down to one by then) noticed the difference. Life on the desert provides some deliciously cool nights and early mornings. We slept with the windows open.

This summer I had to reconcile myself to a second summer in Florida. Small consolation that we don’t have any dogs to walk this summer. When my sister-in-law asked if we wanted to meet her and her family in the mountains of Colorado for a week in July, I jumped at the chance. Dry air, highs around 70°, lows in the 50’s; perfect respite! I packed sweaters, sweatshirts, jackets, jeans, closed-toe shoes - things I hadn’t worn in two years. We hiked without sweating (much). And when I blew my hair dry, it actually stayed the way I styled it! But by the end of the week, the cool temps had penetrated to the bone. The house didn’t have an opportunity to warm up to my satisfaction during the day before the evening temps started to cool it down again. I would go outside to warm up, and even then I was moving from patch to patch of sunlight to stay warm. I was beginning to long for the deep Florida heat. I wanted to be warm again. Go figure!

Reason #3: Slow spin in the pool

Doing a slow spin in the pool on my (neighbor's - thank you, David) most excellent raft while I listen to Chris Botti play "Time to Say Goodbye."

Reason #2: Free movies!

Free classic movies at the beautiful Lyric Theatre in downtown Stuart, complete with cocktails and popcorn.... A perfect respite from the heat!

http://www.lyrictheatre.com/

Reason #1: Nesting Turtles

A couple of weeks ago we went on a guided sea turtle walk on the beach and it was fantastic. We saw a mamma loggerhead lay about 50 eggs, which is a small batch, but it could have been her last one of the season. The females can lay eggs 2-3 times per season. As soon as they lay one batch, they go back out to sea and start working on the next batch. They only mate once a season, and while working on the first batch of eggs can store the sperm for the second and third batches. They don't eat the entire egg-laying season, not until the last batch is in the sand. It amazes me what some females of other species have to go through. I guess it's instinct, and they don't know any different, but I just keep thinking about the multiple servings of chocolate cake I'd have when I was eating for two.

We got to the Florida Oceanographic Society’s Coastal Center on Hutchinson Island in Stuart at 9:00pm. Michelle, an educator at Florida Oceanographic, is a certified marine turtle nesting guide. (People are only allowed to watch loggerheads nest in the presence of a certified guide.) She gave us an interesting talk on sea turtles while her scouts (four of them) were out on the beaches watching for turtles coming out of the water. At 10:15 she got the radio call that there was a loggerhead digging a nest on the beach. The leatherbacks are still nesting too, but we're not allowed to watch them because they're endangered. The loggerheads are only "threatened," so we can watch them in the presence of a guide. The green turtles will nest starting in a month or so, and they are endangered too, so, guide or no, we can’t watch them either. 90% of the loggerheads in the U.S. nest on Florida’s beaches. Cool!

We all jumped into our cars and drove up the island about a mile and parked at a public beach. Then, very carefully and escorted by scouts equipped with night-vision binoculars and red filters on their flashlights so as not to disturb the turtles, we walked a little north of the boardwalk to where the turtle was spotted. Her nest was already dug and she was already in labor when we got there. She was in “the zone", as they say, so she wasn’t really aware of us being there as long as we weren’t too loud and didn’t flash any lights in her eyes. One of the scouts, Leslie, had propped up a flashlight in the sand behind her so we could see what was happening. Ellie, as we chose to call the turtle, dropped a couple of eggs in the hole right after we got there, and then nothing happened for about an hour. Sometimes they actually fall asleep in the process, but Leslie said she was awake; she was just having a little difficulty. Leslie said Ellie’s eggs were larger than most. 

Leslie, a volunteer at Florida Oceanographic, was so knowledgeable. She talked for the full hour that Ellie was in labor, telling us so many fascinating things about turtles. It makes all the difference in the world to be witnessing the nesting with someone like that.

After an hour, the eggs started dropping at about two per minute.We expected the usual 80 to 150 eggs, but Ellie seemed satisfied with the (approximately) 50 that we counted. When she was done, she started carefully packing sand on top of the eggs with her hind flippers. They have to pack it just right so the eggs don't get crushed, but they're safe from predators. In between flipping sand onto the nest, she's packing it down with her abdomen. It is something to see. 

After about 15-20 minutes of this, she turned back toward the ocean and headed out to sea. I almost cried when she went back into the water. I had just witnessed this beautiful animal giving birth, so to speak, and I couldn’t help thinking what a hard life her hatchlings will have. The ocean and beach will be teeming with predators waiting to have a turtle hatchling meal in 45-60 days. Leslie says the sharks will be waiting offshore. (Remind me not to swim in the ocean in 45-60 days!) The few hatchlings that survive, out of every 1000-10,000 eggs that are laid, are fated to lead the same life as their mother - migrating in the sea grass beds of the Atlantic Ocean for twenty or so years, until they are mature enough to mate, and then the females returning to the beach where they hatched to make their own nests. 

Such an incredible experience. Just to see a wild sea turtle on the beach was exciting. She was beautiful - her carapace (shell) was about 2.5-3 feet long. Fortunately she had no visible scars from damage by boats or other hazards. Witnessing a loggerhead nesting is one of the unique advantages of living in Florida. When we lived here before, I never much cared for the natural wildlife, either flora or fauna - mostly out of ignorance. I guess I was too preoccupied with day-to-day life to notice what was around me. 

The habitat and climate may not be for everyone, but there are some amazing things that go on here. Florida is unique in the U.S. in many ways. It's a good thing it's attached because I can't imagine why the U.S. would have wanted it back in the early days. Not difficult to understand why it wasn't settled until the late 1800's. Understandably Americans chose to occupy the more desirable areas of the country before they mustered up the courage to tackle Florida. But those who have the fortitude to tolerate the mosquitos and humidity of summer have the advantage of such rare opportunities as this.