Cultural shift

Ariel View - We're living at the little blue dot.
Note the small green area surrounded by development

The distance between Alaska and Florida is measured in more than miles. We physically arrived at our new volunteer gig at the Timucuan Ecological and Historical Preserve in Jacksonville, Fl on October 28th. It's been just under two months and psychologically I'm still grappling with the enormous cultural distance between here, Alaska and for that matter, the previous year out West.

As per usual, I've been reading books about our latest location. Starting with history texts but seeking comic relief in Carl Hiassen's Razor Girl, Skinny Dip, Sick Puppy and more. (All highly recommended for their perspective on Florida and for humorous ecological anarchist insights.) Dave Barry's Best State Ever, is also a good read. It's the subtitle, "A Florida Man Defends His Homeland," that brings us back to the cultural issues.

Some say Florida is a paradox. The Sunshine State, they say, is being ruined by the very things that

The Paradox - Salt marsh's and container ports

make it so special. That it's wonderful climate, long sandy beaches, palm trees, orange groves, abundant waterfowl and fish are what everyone admires and praises about the state. At the same time, Florida is the epitome of the both the car and consumer culture. Both of those, along with a unregulated manufacturing push threaten the states very uniqueness.

After living for over a year in places that preserve and respect their wild areas, Florida has been a real shock. Currently our trailer is tucked into the Preserve. Live oaks, swamp pines, and sable palms tower over the trailer, owls, ospreys and eagles fly overhead, turtles, little lizards, and various snakes are underfoot. Less than half a mile south suburban sprawl begins. Less than 2 miles south the strips begin. Actually it's more like a giant grid that expands over 20 square miles. Repeating Starbucks, Publixs, MacDonalds, CVS's etc, every 5 or so miles. Every weekday morning, precisely at 8:00 am a line of sand hauling trucks rumble down the road past the Preserve to a sand pit. A sand pit that is filled from St. John's River dredging. The trucks fill up and soon rumble past, off to fill in some other wetland somewhere for a new road, a new housing development, or a new shopping center.

Home - where a family of bald eagles are our neighbors

They say there is nothing like travel to a foreign country to help you learn about yourself and what you value. After two months in Florida, not to mention the drive thru the midwest, I've learned that it's best to treat this experience as a trip to a foreign land.

We had become accustomed to places where people value preserving and enjoying nature, local produce, sustainable livelihoods, recycling, low impact living, even not littering. I'd even come to take it for granted that everyone does. I love wild places, small friendly towns, gardens, local traditions and pride. So far none of those seem to be valued here. Having spent a month and half coming to this realization however, I vow to keep an open mind and spend the next month and a half getting to know more about this foreign land - and searching out the pockets of resistance.