Inquires about my summer weather field work inevitably circles to,
"How can you stand the heat?"
South Florida is a subtropical climate after all. Today, the weather is humid, hot, and steamy. One of those days I am hibernating in my studio writing and arranging a still-life escaping from that oppressive sauna like heat. Although just a few days ago, I canoed the Loxahachee River with Chris Devenport, a fellow naturalist. The morning was much like today, but once I found myself engrossed by the towering Oaks, telling of early residents, Cypress, towering like skyscrapers, and Pond Apple trees, ancient beings. I am always amazed how early Floridians survived without ant spray (or any other bug repellant) or air conditioning. Sometimes my mental displacement is reassuring to my cognitive conscious side that asks if my pursuit as a professional photographer is prudent. That fleeting thought abandons me the further we canoed into the hammock. I felt like a pioneer exploring the unknown, until the stripped tail of a baby alligator caught my eye.
I found myself remembering that artistry takes a lifetime of mastery. In times of not so great creativity, I must be as the little alligator: still, purposeful, and intuitive. When my mind and spirit fuse in this creative zone, the heat and humidity are just gravy.
