For the Gulf Coast, its people and all the innocents.......

[Are_grits_groceries]

http://www.youtube.com/v/iHO2TvQCNt0&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0
(minimize it and listen)















Vaya con Dios...........

[csziggy]

1. An email list I am on reposted a story

About life on Live Oak Island on the coast south of Tallahassee. The author has moved to LA and was remembering her idyllic life there and looking forward to returning. Now she will never be able to return to it as she remembers it. :cry:

Here are some excerpts:

The small island is connected to the mainland by a 30-foot land bridge. The rarity of having seclusion a mere 17 miles from Winn-Dixie, Walmart, Walgreens, two medical centers, veterinarians, Ace Hardware and fast-food joints is magical. We bought a little bungalow that grew larger over the years as we added rooms. On my first walk with Max, our huge half-malamute, half-yellow lab — we called him our "malamutt" — I let him off leash. It seemed safe, since I never saw more than four cars a day driving our sandy road, unless it was a holiday. Max and I had almost reached the end of the road at the water's edge when we heard what sounded like a huge, deep breath. We looked at each other, our brows raised in surprise, then raced to the shore, where we saw a pod of porpoises — at least six of them — cavorting in the shallow bay not 10 feet from us.
The first time my husband and I took our boat out from Live Oak Island, the water, reflecting the sunrise, was smooth as glass. We motored to a spot where the tall marsh grass was dotted with rustling palms and readied our rods and reels just as a school of manta rays swam beneath our boat. In awe and silence, we watched the endless stream of graceful fish. When at last they'd gone, I caught a redfish — a keeper — with my first cast. There, we have our own dock and use the island's private ramp to go out.
On Live Oak Island, I can walk to a friend's, get tipsy if I like, and stroll home by the light of the moon. And if I felt like stretching out on the grass on a warm summer's evening, I could sleep there all night and be perfectly safe.
Highway 98 is dotted with fresh-fish stores, where we often stop to buy the catch of the day. Here, the only way we can purchase the catch of the day is to stand in line early in the morning at the Ventura Harbor on the infrequent occasions when the one fishing boat that sells to the public announces its arrival.
Almost around the corner from Live Oak Island are the communities of Spring Creek and Shell Point. At first glance, Spring Creek appears to be a rundown area, but hidden behind the oak trees are dozens of large, gorgeous homes, visible only from the water. Boating out to Spring Creek, we make sure never to miss visiting "the boils" — dozens of underwater springs that boil up from the karst formations.
We've often kayaked to Shell Point, a great family spot for windsurfing, swimming, snorkeling and sunning. Its deep-water canals make it a favorite home to dyed-in-the-wool sailors. From the eastern side of Shell Point, one can look out across Walker Creek (more like a shallow bay than a creek: I have dubbed it Pelican Bay) and see our island.
My husband and I love bird watching while drinking coffee on our back deck. I don't even need my field glasses to spot pelicans, great blue herons, green and tri-colored herons, ibis, white egrets, belted kingfishers, marsh hens, osprey, eagles, cardinals, red winged blackbirds, great frigates and red tailed hawks. Here all I see are little brown birds, sandpipers, crows, seagulls and the occasional pelican.

Just last summer a family of manatees spent the entire day in a little cove next to our house during mating season, and when I wasn't outside watching, I was able to glance at them from my living room window. During the season, there are plenty of blue crabs — the sweetest tasting crab I've ever eaten — free for the trapping. In summer, there's scallop season. Wearing just our bathing suits and a T-shirt, we dive over and over, collecting the pretty orange-and-white shells that hide among the tall, undulating grasses, and filling up our catch bags. Here I wouldn't dream of snorkeling in the frigid waters of the Pacific.
Because there are no street lights, the night sky on Live Oak Island is drenched with stars, and the air smells clean and fresh. Here, though the air is clean, you can make out only the brightest stars. I miss the drama of the thunderstorms (although my dogs don't), the brief drenching rains, the embracing zephyr winds that soothingly blow in over the Gulf, and the brilliant sunsets we watched from our deck as we sipped wine before dinner.
We treasure our world, our gem, and though some are moving away, those who stay are devoted to preserving Florida's best-kept secret. Much as I'm enjoying being close to family and old friends, I can't wait to go back.

Location of Live Oak Island: http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=&q=&sourceid=navclient-ff&rlz=1B3GGLL_enUS375US375&ie=UTF-8

[Are_grits_groceries]

2. If I start crying,

I don't think I will ever stop.

Thanks for posting that.

[csziggy]

3. It is a beautiful piece.

I think in the morning I will drive down to the coast to the St. marks Wildlife Refuge. It is to the east of Live Oak Island, on the other side of the St. Marks River. If you go to the Google Map link I gave, you will see it - follow the map to the east and you will see coastline that will be irretrievably damaged by this oil.

The coast between there and Weeki Watchee has little development - jsut look at the map in satellite view and you will see. It is not a big tourist destination since it has few pretty white beaches - most of it is in mangrove coastal swamps. That is where much of the sea life starts their existence and grows to a size large enough to survive in the Gulf waters. And that is the area that which will be most severely damaged if/when the oil makes it there. So much of that coastline is inaccessible it can not be cleaned by human efforts. The loss of bird and sea life will be horrific for decades to come.

We have all taken this resource for granted - so much of it is such low tidal swamp that it is undevelopable and there for is in wildlife refuges and not visible to most people. But the fishermen of St. Marks, Steinhatchee, Cedar Key and other rely on those swamps as the nurseries for the fish, crab and shrimp they catch.

Damn. Now I am crying - again.