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Alexander Springs: Hello Goodbye

April 12, 2010 By 6 Comments

Since I discovered the Florida springs last summer I’ve put visiting as many of them as possible on my personal life list, dragging an assortment of children and cameras, snorkels and fins, beach chairs and books – everything I’ll need for a day of swimming, snorkeling, photography and fun for everyone who happens to be in my car.
We have a definite fan favorite – Blue Springs in Gilchrist County. There’s just something about Blue that’s got us by our heartstrings and so far no other spring has surpassed our passion for Blue.
But I’ll keep an open mind, I will, and we’ll continue to trek around central Florida this summer to enjoy the cool, clear waters of these amazing, ancient swimming holes. They’re usually set deep in the boondocks, sometimes County-owned, sometimes privately, but always nestled amidst trees with water bubbling from the headspring.
Yesterday we kicked off Florida Springs season 2010 when we stopped at Alexander Springs on our way home from Orlando. I was fairly excited as I’d heard rave reviews about this place. In fact, we tried to go there last Labor Day weekend but were turned away due to its being full to capacity. The husband is just not a water guy, and the pollen was flying and the Master’s was on TV (and there’s no TV at any springs I’ve encountered) so he was a half-hearted attendee but willing stuff-hauler and chauffeur. Still, the kids and I were anticipating a good time. We trudged a short distance from the parking lot, came upon the spring and looked around. It was … fine. I mean, the surroundings were lovely; deep in the Ocala National forest, but I have to be honest- I wasn’t moved – and neither were they.
The husband wheezed and rubbed his eyes, we plopped our things down and I sat in the sun feeling a bit deflated. The kids went into the water for a little while but shortly returned, not enthused.
“There’s no fish,” they complained. We are accustomed to swimming with plenty of fish at Blue Springs. Of course the large, wooden jumping platform at Blue means hours of fun for kids, and then there’s the spring run that’s open for swimmers, as well as kayakers and canoes. I love swimming up and down that spring run, fins strapped to my feet like I’m a fish among fish. The current coming back is significant but I’m a strong swimmer. I love swimming through the trees and plant life. Blue doesn’t have a retaining wall or steps; it’s very natural. A rickety boardwalk edges the spring run and takes pedestrians on a scenic walk all the way to the Santa Fe River. At other springs we’ve visited, including Alexander, there are retaining walls, and a roped off area. I understand the need for these things but for me, they detract from the whole natural ambiance of the spring that makes Blue so special to me in general.
It’s nice for small children at Blue to be able to wade, ankle deep, in the water, a natural egress as opposed to steps.
There were plenty of people out and about enjoying the water, but I never went in. It wasn’t hot enough for starters, and frankly, these waters didn’t speak to me. You see, I have this special rapport with water, all kinds of water, and yesterday the water at Alexander Springs didn’t beckon.
I got a bit of reading time in, shot some photos and called it a day.


Alexander Springs is a lovely place to visit but for us, our hearts belong to Blue.
Filed Under: Blog, Springs

Shelby’s Coffee Shoppe, Part Duex

April 11, 2010 By 2 Comments

As Shelby’s Coffee Shoppe winds down its time as Shelby’s I ducked in late one afternoon and snapped a few photos for my own, private archives. And okay, yes, for this blog post too.

I’d have liked to have hosted a photo exhibition here. I think it’s great when artists are celebrated in their own community, in a locally owned gathering place.

I hope the new owners will continue this tradition – and this time I’ll gather my courage to submit some photos for their consideration. I’d be thrilled to show my pictures on these walls.


The beloved wooden counter’s been worn down by years of drinks and sandwiches slid across to the waiting, caffeine-deprived and hungry patrons.
A gathering place for friends.

Shelby’s always carried ice cream, cookies, and terribly good fudge (I love good fudge) served up by the smiling waitstaff. At a time when frozen yogurt shops are popping up everywhere – not that there’s anything wrong with it – I know of one family who’s hoping that there’ll be at least one place left in town to get a simple ice cream cone (and fudge).
This courtyard is just outside Shelby’s door. There’s a place to park your bike, a bowl of water for your dog, and a larger center space where events can be hosted, and live music’s played some evenings. Your kids can prance about the courtyard while you dodge in and out of the shops and galleries, stealing a few minutes of shopping time, or just sit under the shade of the palms enjoying a latte or a meal with your friends. I have sweet memories of getting a coffee at Shelby’s then browsing the shops with my mom, when she’d visit. One block from the ocean, there’s always a sea breeze, and people coming in from the beach.
Thank goodness a coffee shop similar in spirit will remain.
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Her Blessed Blossom

April 7, 2010 By 8 Comments
Easter Lily (Lilium longiflorum)


Her name in Korean means blessed blossom. Her referral came to them on a Good Friday. They were told to return the adoption papers that following week, and to include the name they’d choose for this sweet baby girl who would become their daughter. But how to name a baby they hadn’t even met yet? Sure, they knew plenty of pregnant moms and dads who name their babies while still in utero, but that kind of naming wasn’t for them. International adoption is a whole different ball game. Obviously there wasn’t a baby growing inside her body, but in her mind and heart, there very much was. Still, this future baby of theirs was hard to conceptualize because when adopting a child there are so many unknowns. How old will the baby be when news of her reaches you? How much of her life before you will you learn about? When that longed-for ‘call’ finally does come, how will you really feel? Oh, she worked these thoughts over in her mind nonstop, like a woman fingering her rosary beads, lips murmuring in constant prayer, from the moment her dossier reached its foreign destination. She spent hours and hours on the Internet, mining for other people’s adoption stories, and looking for trends she could use to guesstimate when their referral might come.

The Call – that peak experience when your social worker tells you that yes, indeed, you do have a baby, and gives you all the relevant details – arrived months before they expected it. Their telephone rang on Good Friday; her husband was home from work that day so she yelled for him to pick up the extension. She wanted them to hear the news together this time. Her hands trembled and she felt just…staggered by the prematurity of it all. She heard the social worker telling them that their baby was a daughter. She was eight months old and living in Seoul, Korea. She was named Eun Young, bestowed by her birth mother and its translation meant blessed blossom. The social worker came over a little while later and left them with the packet of paperwork and photos showing a plump and precious baby, who would soon become their daughter. Their first responsibility as her parents was to choose their name for her. But she wasn’t ready to name a baby just yet. Naming is momentous! She needed time to think about it all.

She could not escape the thought that someone who loved her had already given this baby a name. That felt sacred to her. She wanted the name to be somehow congruent with her Korean name, meaningful on a deeper level, but she and her husband were without inspiration. She was feeling desperate because they were asked to return the acceptance papers to the agency as soon as possible, and include the baby’s new American name. No adoptive parent ever wants to delay paperwork by so much as an hour, let alone a day, so the pressure was definitely on. They had that Easter weekend to decide.

Good Friday soon became Easter Sunday, and if you’ve ever been in a Catholic Church on Easter, you’ll remember the altar adorned with a radiant display of floral magnificence. The joy of Resurrection follows the sparseness of the Lenten season and the traditional Easter lilies were everywhere. On this Easter Sunday she was frankly oblivious to anything around her, so preoccupied she was with naming this child, and yearning for spiritual guidance. Her husband was outside the church, walking their restless toddler son. As the Easter liturgy was celebrated, she decided to inwardly recite the names of her cousins’ children. She began with her favorite cousin’s family – there were seventeen siblings in all (plus spouses) so she started from eldest to youngest, cataloging the names of their children in her mind. She did this naming until she got to the seventh cousin and his family of three, the youngest of whom was a girl named Lilly. When she murmured the name Lilly to herself, something inside her stirred. Lilly. Lilly…Lily.

Truly, it was like the rock pushed back from the tomb and she saw. This feeling was like nothing she’d ever had before. It all coalesced, and she knew. Lily was the name for this child. It was the name she’d been grasping for, before it was revealed: Lily with one L, like the flower. Like the Easter lily, these blessed blossoms that surrounded her on this morning.

The surge of energy was palpable even as she sat still in the pew. She felt that the baby’s birth mother would approve of their choice, given a chance. Her impulse was to bolt from that church and find her husband out there on the sidewalk and babble euphorically about the divine inspiration she’d just had. She had never experienced a moment like this one – a divine revelation! but she remained seated, calmly, considering it all through her excitement, until the Mass was over and the final Easter blessing was made. Then she rushed outside to her husband and son and presented him with what she truly knew was to be the name of their baby: Lily, the blessed blossom, American style. It wasn’t one they’d thought about, but it felt just as right to him as it did to her. At brunch later, she told some friends, who tried, helpfully, to proffer other ideas for names that were also floral in nature, but they failed to grasp the meaning of the Easter lily being the only blossom that could possibly be a blessed one – that was the meaning, the congruence she was yearning for. No, Rose, would certainly not do; their baby’s name would be, and could only be Lily, the blessed blossom.

**********
Thank you for indulging a personal post. From time to time I share stories that have no relation to beachlife.



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Shelby’s Coffee Shoppe

March 30, 2010 By 8 Comments
As news of its demise spread across Facebook late Sunday night, comments of dismay and shock filled the shop’s fan page, nearly faster than I could keep up with reading them.
For most of us, the fact that our beloved Shelby’s Coffee Shoppe would close in three days was truly shocking news.
In a town that values individuality in its storefronts, Shelby’s has been an anchor in the Neptune and Atlantic Beaches business communities for more than a decade. It is the spot for hanging out for people of all ages – day or evening.
Coffees, incredible sandwiches named for various local streets and landmarks, live music some nights, local artists displaying on their walls – everyone loves Shelby’s. When we first arrived in Jacksonville ten years ago and rented an oceanfront condo while we shopped for a permanent home here, I parked myself at Shelby’s (the old location, for those of you who remember it) one Sunday afternoon in March, and decided, then and there, that it was Atlantic Beach, and only Atlantic Beach for me. The husband, fond of golfing, and simply euphoric about having relocated to a temperate climate, would have been content in a house on the golf course in a gated community, just a few miles away from the beach. For him, that was an idyllic lifestyle. (And actually, it is. It’s just personal preference at play here.) ‘What’s the difference?’ he told me, ‘We’d be living on a golf course, with the beach is just minutes away’.
Well, I knew the difference. And I was sitting right in front of it. Where, in a gated community, can you ride your bike to? In a world of ever-increasing subdivisions and closed communities that lack an actual town, I was completely drawn in by these coastal neighborhoods. To sit and have coffee on the sidewalk cafe in March, and then ride my bike home again? Well, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, having somehow landed here. It was at Shelby’s Coffee Shoppe that afternoon, when I made up my mind: we would live right here in Atlantic Beach (and drive to the golf course, not the other way around) In fact, I went inside and started my own Shelby’s ‘frequent coffee purchase’ card and placed it in the box, next to the register. Then I bought an ‘Atlantic Beach’ refrigerator magnet. It was as if I was planting my stake in the land; putting down my roots. I left Shelby’s, rode my bike back to our condo, and slapped that magnet onto our rented refrigerator and silently declared myself an Atlantic Beach resident.
It was Shelby’s and the neighboring shops and restaurants, just steps from the beach, that completely won me over. It was having a destination, a real town to go to, not merely a ‘clubhouse’ in a subdivision, that mattered to me when it came to where we should buy a home and make our lives. And it’s never disappointed.
So on Sunday night when the news of Shelby’s closing reverberated across Facebook, I felt awful, truly sad. I didn’t know the reasons, or the real story but the loss of this special place just wasn’t right. In a community that is also home to two Starbucks stores – each literally across the street from the other – we need the individuality of our Shelby’s. The shops at 200 First Street just wouldn’t be the same without it. None of us would.
Well, the good news came today. Shelby’s will remain! While I don’t have all the details, it seems that the shop has been sold to some local proprietors, and Shelby herself will be able to retire. It appears to be a win/win for everyone … and there’ll be a celebration soon. There we’ll gather and clink our mugs and buy the kids an ice cream and sit in the shop or courtyard and count our blessings, for happy endings, these days, have sometimes been a bit hard to come by.
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The Friday Morning Photographer

March 25, 2010 By 4 Comments
Driving through Neptune and Atlantic Beaches with a camera on my lap lets me indulge in spontaneous photography. I was on my way home when I happened to see the lovely Lula opening her shop, Capri, this morning, glowing in the light of the   eleven a.m.  sun. I called her name, and she turned, probably startled.  I got my shot like a sort of paparazzo and drove off with a wink, a wave, and a wish for a good shopping day.  A little while later, I received her email:

Hi Jeannie,
You are so silly, crazy!!!  I’m going to have to warn everyone to be on the look out for a crazy (sweet) lady with a camera.  She’ll get you when you least expect it.  Have a great weekend and enjoy this beautiful day!
Your Pal, Lula
                                          * * * * * * *
Lula opened Capri at the end of last summer.  I remember watching  with interest, sad that the former shop of many years had closed – ah, the seasons of life –  but glad that the space had been snapped up right away and was being remade into something new. I drove past nearly every day, mining for clues as to its theme and eagerly monitoring the progress of the build-out.  Come on, you have to give me credit for admitting this; I can’t have been the only person who was interested! Soon, and likely because I was asking around, I learned that it was Lula who was opening a shop.  We had a nodding acquaintance is all, but  I was as excited for her as though she was an old friend.  When someone pursues a dream, I like to know their story if they’ll share it.   So one day I saw her in the gym,  got bold, and asked about her plans.  

Lula has a serene and genuine spirit, with a gracious smile. There is no pretense about her: she allowed my inquisitiveness, and I got to know  her a bit in the process. After that, I could call her by name, and felt emotionally invested in her success. And it’s good for the community to have a thriving, walkabout environment: who doesn’t love a  small-town storefront shopping experience?  Lula’s Capri is a great shop for casual clothes, resort wear, skin care and accessories, all priced right ( read: the every day shopper can find something there).  It’s in Atlantic Beach,  on Ocean Blvd. just north of Atlantic Blvd.,  across the street from from One Ocean  and the next door neighbor to Ocean 60, where I had so much fun one night a few months ago. 

It’s the entrepreneurial, sole-proprietor that I can’t help but root for, and I’m really rooting for Lula and Capri ~ Beach and Beauty.  



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Good Morning, Atlantic Beach

March 23, 2010 By 8 Comments
iPhone was the only camera I had in my purse yesterday morning. It was such a lovely, Spring morning so I went onto the beach for just a few minutes.  I’m not a beach walker … just a girl with a camera and a passion for the coastline and the burgs that thrive beside it.
This picture was altered with iPhone photo apps Camera Bag but it came out of the camera strangely underexposed, the morning sun resembling a setting one,  in a night sky.

 This oft-trod path to the beach shows the actual daylight illumination at that morning.
And this picture was altered from its darker original,  to bring it into the light of day!
I think that Spring is finally here and can I just say, once again, how much I appreciate iPhone, because it’s quite simply, always there for me.
Filed Under: Uncategorized

Spring Break, Baby

March 16, 2010 By 6 Comments
A pretty day drew me to Jacksonville Beach again this afternoon. The sunshine and blue skies belied the crisp reality of the air temperature and a vigorous sea breeze.  As I zipped my cute, green pleather motorcycle jacket all the way up to my chin and stepped onto the dune walkover, I was still shivering in the wind that  snapped the yellow ocean flag like a sail.  iPhone told me that it was a mere 57 degrees so I was stunned to see people in bathing suits – bikinis and baggies – prone on their beach towels for the requisite spring break tan … and even, someone in the water with a boogie board, bare skinned and all.  Hell-to-the-no, I would not be swimming or sunning today. Not even spring break could entice me to remove my adorable pleather jacket (thank you, Nordstrom in California.  I do still need you after all).
These high schoolers were vacationing from Austin, Texas.    They asked what it was like to live at the beach and said that their nanny had brought them on a road trip to Jacksonville – an 18 hour drive from Austin to get here.  I told them it usually wasn’t quite this cold  halfway into March, sorry for them that it wasn’t warmer after such a long journey, for just a two-day beach vacation.  I was totally flattered because they assumed I was the reporter from First Coast News, which was setting up to do a live segment at the 5:00 hour there on the walkover and I certainly looked the part, now that I think about it.

  No, I told them regretfully, I’m not.  But I should be….  I guess I was camera-ready owing to my fine-looking lime pleather jacket and my Ocean Waves sunglasses, plus my hair… swept into a knot courtesy of Jonna, whose chair at Picasso Day Spa I’d left just minutes before showing up at the coast the same time as First Coast News.  No, it’s just another day at the beach for your faithful atlantic beachlifer, embellishing the everyday with her own signature, beach-blogger style.
After several minutes of shivering and incredulously observing those who were undeterred by the temps in pursuit of their tans, I offered to host tonight’s First Coast segment from the beach.  I’m sorry to say that the camerman declined, so I left them there to handle my beat on their own.  (Are you listening, First Coast News?)  Although too cold for tanning it was a lovely day for paragliding… don’t you think? 
Paragliding holds no interest for me other than an eyes-to-the-sky treat and a chance for a good photograph which would have been far more interesting had the Canon Rebel’s telephoto lens been on the task but with the little Canon Elph, my sturdy, hard-working, always-there sidekick, I take the shots  I can get.
Now if I was skateboarding, I’d certainly have shed that stylish, chartreuse pleather jacket, because, well, pleather doesn’t breathe … and heck, it’s not even skaterwear anyway.  Soon and very soon  the temps will be climbing and I’ll be packing it away for the several months, so I am going to wear it, along with the darling yellow trench coat* (also compliments of Nordstrom, Los Angeles and cannot go unmentioned and speaking of, did I really say I didn’t need Nordstrom in a blog post recently?) as long as I possibly can.  I know it’s spring break and people want their tans… but I love the chilly spring and looking like a news reporter in my outerwear.  The beach is my beat, after all.
Reporting straight from my laptop and certainly not live, I remain,
atlantic beachifer, at your service.
                                       *****************
*some reader(s), and you know who you are, might be interested to know that the yellow trench coat I mentioned is by Ellen Tracy, and was purchased by both my sister and me, on the spot, the minute we saw it.  The pleather (i just love saying pleather!) motorcycle jacket in chartreuse was an instant old friend, but the sister had her sights on a different style.  As she was trying on trenches, I spotted the yellow number from across the room and knew before either of us slid our right arm into it that it was going home with both of us. I had it on before I could help myself and convinced her that ‘this’ indeed ‘was’ the coat she was seeking.  Pictures of her wearing it still startle me because for half a second, I think, hey, that’s me!
                          
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Spring Forward

March 15, 2010 By 2 Comments

The first sunset hour of the spring forward evening that brings us into daylight savings time era,  always quickens my being with the promise of summer and easy living.

Evening approaches:  Sunday night in Jacksonville Beach.

Oh, that sky. The cool Spring air.  It’s coming.  The heat and humidity of summer.  Every season has its joys, and at this moment, it’s Spring.  The deliciously fresh air, warmer afternoons.  Cool nights, still, for sleeping under the covers without the furnace on.

I am enjoying the cool while it lasts.  Welcome to daylight savings time in the Eastern Daylight Time (EDT) zone.

And for the record?  I  do despise waking up in the dark on these spring forward mornings.

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March Morning

March 9, 2010 By 5 Comments


 This morning’s sky wasn’t  so beckoning but yesterday’s, oh it was lovely.  When I noticed several wet-suited surfers hurrying to the beach, I followed.  I’ll take their lead any day; they watch the rhythms of the ocean and as much as I’m a water girl, surfing’s a whole other thing.

 I’m not a part of their tribe, but an observer and appreciator – of their skills and the passion for surf that’s  a fire in their soul. 





I observe the water in different ways.  Sometimes I like to be in it.  Other times, to watch it as it comes and goes from the wet sand.  Some days, it leaves puffy sea foam and other days, the beach is scattered with jellyfish.  It’s usually March when the scads of jellyfish come in with the tide.


It won’t be long till wet suits are shed and the air around us closes in with humidity and tropical rainstorms are afternoon expectations.  




Our yard is a sorry mess of plants burned from freezing temps and a lawn that’s somehow up and died altogether.  But these little weeds are as cute as they are pesky, and  as sure a sign of spring as anything else these I’ve seen these days.

(What’s your wish?)


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Raison d’etre

March 8, 2010 By 1 Comment
What is this space I’ve created for myself? 
I’m practicing here.  
I’m a girl with words and cameras;  moods and anecdotes.  Sometimes a bit of prose emerges and when that happens it’s always quick and natural; the patter of words light up the screen as my fingers tap the keys.  Okay, I’ll think, now that was good.
It feels right,  to be here and create vignettes and embellish the ordinary with words and pictures of my own making. Behind the lens, I can be in the world but absorbed in its details. When the images are purged from the camera onto the laptop’s hard drive it’s a delicious moment of discovery because oftentimes the pictures are so different from what I’d anticipated.
Part of a comment that I’ve culled from a different conversation has stayed with me because it felt a bit derisive:  “… from living at the beach which you obviously find so important …”  reading that I knew that the writer missed the point of what I’m doing here.  Being happy with where I’m at is a wonderful gift,  when so much of life is chaotic and unexpected and even disappointing. So yes, I’ll write about it and photograph it and celebrate lifestyle because in doing so, it facilitates my getting to the something  that’s inside of me, whorling about, unnamed as of yet but making its presence known.

Writing and photography is the only way I know to coax it from within so that when it’s mature and we are both ready, I will make something big.

Filed Under: Blog
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