On May 13th I have a speaking engagement for the Citrus County Council, a consortium of environmental organizations, civic groups and Home Owners Associations. I spent the weekend with the CCC's president, Teddi Rusnak, a gracious host who treated me as much like a son as a guest. Between treating me to lunch at Neon Leon's Zydeco Steakhouse (owned and operated by the nephew of Leon Wilkeson who was Lynyrd Skynyrd's bass guitar player), and a post homemade dinner conversation about the foundations of sustainable communities, I was out exploring the natural wonders of Citrus County. My only problem was there was not enough time! I stared Saturday morning (April 25) at the Annutteliga Hammock Florida Forever project site (which actually borders Hernando and Citrus counties) and found a pleasant dry, upland scrub ecosystem. Sunset saw me peddling a network of trails through the Tsala-Apopka Lake and Withlacoochee River region. Sunrise Sunday required my first visit of the weekend to the coast. It was an eventful week. Some of the best images are below.

One of the many giant oaks growing near the Withlacoochee River. 

The dry scrub-oak habitat found in central Citrus County is very important to many species of animals including several that are endangered, such as the Florida Scrub Jay, the Gopher Tortoise, and the Florida Black Bear. In fact Annutteliga Hammock, pictured above, is a crucial connector between the already preserved Withlacoochee State Forest and Chassahowitzka. If purchased by Florida Forever, bears in Florida will have a better chance of survival. 

Bartram's Airplant (Tillandsia bartramii) is very common in Florida. These epiphytes grow on the branches of many trees in coastal Florida and are currently blooming. This image was photographed near the Gulf (yes, that's water in the background) between Crystal River and Homossassa. 

Light quality during the weekend wasn't that great. Without clouds, sunlight came on strong and faded fast. So I focused more on the fine details of nature, like this fern revealing itself to the world. (Sorry I don't know the exact name yet ... you'll have to wait.)

This image was in some way a total accident. I noticed minute water droplets on large blade of a grass-like plant. In a hurry, I began shooting. But I didn't think I got anything worthwhile, or what I has hoping to get, which really shows how detrimental preconceived agendas can be to the potential successes produced by an open mind. I didn't notice this striking composition until I got home and inqisitively uttered, "hmm ... " It could just be me, but I like it, if only for the artistic value. In retrospect, I needed to slow down my pace to be more in tune with my surroundings. There are few nuances about the image that I should've done better in addressing during capture. But what the hey, there will be many more to come!

Hello, Mr. Barred Owl (Strix varia).

Three Sisters Springs flows into Kings Bay, the source of Crystal River. Although the springs might be a chilling jolt to warmblooded Floridians, the 72-degree temperature water is perfect for manatees in winter. These aquatic mammals don't fare well in cold water, and believe it not, the Gulf of Mexico, where hundred of manatees spend most of the year, gets pretty darn cold during the winter, much colder than 72 degrees. Crystal River and the first magnitude spring-fed Kings Bay attracts manatees like Tyra Banks attracts men. Except the 57 acres of filled swamp (another story entirely) surrounding Three Sisters could be a platform for 330 new homes and the sources of water bottling operation. Thankfully, the owners of the property have a green streak. They understand the importance of the springs to the manatees, who have few places left to go. They are willing to sell the property to the state for inclusion into the Crystal River National Wildlife Refuge, which was created for the solw purpose of protecting the manatee. The people who are trying to buy it have to raise more than 10 million dollars ... and they are almost there. The story of Three Sisters Springs is the quintessential Nature Coast tale.To learn more about this fascinating story check out the Web site, Save Three Sisters Springs. Expect to see more from me in the near future, especially when the manatees return around Novemeber ...

 In preparation for my 100-mile canoe paddle, I drove to an obscure boat ramp on Fishbone Creek one beautiful Florida winter morning. The plan: Simply load the canoe with gear, start paddling and see what happens. The water level was dropping fast and oyster bars, once submerged, began to feel the same breeze that brushed my skin. The Gulf of Mexico was only a half mile away, at most. Off I went. 

Once at the coast, I discovered a place. It seemed ... different. Or rather, it seemed like it had "potential." Potential for beauty. Potential for photographs. It wasn't an island exactly. From a distance the trees looked big and mature. From the Gulf side, I could see what might be a narrow crescent of white sandy beach lined with slender sabal palms. Water did not separate this "island" of trees from the mainland. But the vast salt marsh did. I came ashore and began to look around. It was breathtaking. So I promised myself I would return and spend the night. I did. The images below are from that one magical evening, alone on my island.  

This giant live oak, pierced by sabal palms, glittered in dappled late afternoon light.  

The edge of the island. 

 Looking into the forest canopy from the beach.

 The beach at sunset.

Stately sabal palms under a ceiling of stars. 

 The forest and bordering marsh at sunrise.

A willet searches for food in shallow, quiet water. 

Florida Forever is a government program that purchases private land to be placed into conservation. Every year, I team with the Legacy Institute for Nature & Culture to lead the effort to put together the Florida Forever Conservation Photography Calendar. Each calendar features landscapes that have not been purchased by the Florida Forever program. Twelve photographers photograph 12 landscapes for the 12 months in the calendar. I focus on photograhping landscapes close to the Nature Coast, so I can achieve two goals at once. Last year, my image of the Caber Coastal Connector parcel was the cover photo.

Below are a sneak peek at some landscapes I will submit for the 2010 calendar.   

Re-plant in previously logged area of the South Goethe tract in Levy County.

Jumper Lake at sunrise in South Goethe.

Goethe State Forest borders South Goethe parcel.

Florida Forever is seeking to purchase remaining parcels of the land along the Rainbow river that are not developed. The shoreline is part of one parcel.

Since early April the northern stretches of the Nature Coast have provided many exciting adventures and ample photo opportunities. I don't make it to this area that often. If fact, the last time I had been at St. Marks was in 2001. Same for the Wacissa River. Not only did I need to revisit this swampy, spring-riddled landscape for my Life on the Edge project, in some ways, it felt like coming home. 

 Using my GPS to search for the Wacissa River ... and photo opportunities.

My first visit April 4th, was with friend and photographer David Moynahan to the Wakulla Wildlife Festival. I remember Wakulla ... from 1998. It had not changed much. Although I learned that only during the wildlife festival do the tour boats operate at sunrise. Indeed the waterfowl were abundant and varied.

Later David and I went on a Champion Tree hike. Champion Trees are the biggest known trees of their kind in any given state. This isn't one of them. But it's a big'un. I just thought it made a beautiful composition.  This is one of the few times mid-day light looks good.

 David and I finished the day on the coast for sunset. That was after scoping out Shepard Spring and the Cathedral of Palms (for a future visit).

My good buddy Carlton Ward joined me the next day for some exploring. David, being the generous man that he is, offered to house Carlton and I in his guest house for the night. While David fulfilled prior obligation, Carlton and I couldn't help but to go exploring in my new truck. We have a history of scary "scenarios" through which to survive ... and hopefully photograph. Carlton snapped the shot above ... one of the more shallow puddles that tested my truck.

 Carlton also photographed this scene. I have a soft spot for snakes. Even the venemous kind. This is a cottonmouth, or water moccasin. More people than not swear these creatures are the devil incarnate, seeking to hunt and destroy any human within range. I have never found this to be true. In fact, this little guy never even struck at me. It tried to crawl away but was too clumsy to overcome the small embankment between the road and freedom. So he just curled up and postured. Fine by me. The image below was made while in the position you see above. (Thanks Carlton.)

  (Now, c'mon ... how cool is that eye?!)

 This was the more dangerous view to take. I actually got a little nervous.

Carlton and I finally made it to the Aucilla Sinks section of the Florida Trail, except with all the flooding there was hardly a trail.

The Aucilla Sinks captivated me. It's like stepping back in time. Nowhere else in the county can you see this kind of feature. The river flows underground, but you can still see it! You can see it through the sinks. From one sink to another it flows, up then down, up then down. The water is black like tar, and primeval. 

 The next day Carlton and I visited Tallahassee for Florida Forever Day. The Governor stopped by and took one of LINC's calendars! We met him and got a photo together. It's on another blog entry. 

 I returned to the Nature Coast on April 18, this time with my cousin, and with the sole purpose of flying a small four-seater airplane to do some aerials. We were suppose to go up at sunrise, but things didn't go as planned. I ended up at Hickory Mound Impoundment, in the Hickory Mound Wildlife Management Area. For the most part WMA's are what constitute protection of the Nature Coast. It's better than nothing, but it's not what a place like this deserves. Hickory Mound was nice though. I had never seen it before, so it was good to check out for future reference. 

Erin, my cousin, and I stayed with David. He wasn't even home, yet he and his wife Crystal were nice enough to let Erin and I stay in his guest house. In one day Erin and I had drove, flown, and canoed hundreds of miles of the Northern Nature Coast. By nightfall we were pooped. The next day we went swimming in David's "pool." Excuse me, but this is coolest f@&king back yard pool on the planet, comlete with rope swing, deck, and pure blue spring water. It's a karst window, literally a window to Florida's unground lake, the acquifer. It was heaven.