I came home and found my girls, both of them enjoying their summer vacation, just home from the pool. They seem to live in swimming suits this time of the year, and they always smell like sunscreen. It's nice.
I wanted to take advantage of the day, so I had an early dinner and lit out for Blue Cypress, a local golf club that is just so typically Old Florida. Blue Cypress is a fairly easy track. The clubhouse is a double-wide trailer with a big screen television and a bunch of card tables. Thursday night is steak night, when they grill up New York strips on a huge outdoor grill for about forty golfers that know each other by name.
They always have a kind word for their patrons.
It's a nice little place. I picked up a couple of Pabst tallboys ($1.50) and went out for nine holes. During my round, I saw a gopher tortoise, a number of jumping bass and warmouths, a big ol' Florida hare, a couple of wood storks, a flock of cattle egrets, a few herons and, possibly, the fleeting immersion of an alligator in the pond off of the sixth green.
In recent years, we've had opportunities to leave Florida, but it's places like Blue Cypress that make me feel such a strong connection to this place. The truth is, whether its armadillos and bobcats and alligators or just the garden-variety reptile menagerie that lives on my back porch and in amongst the tomato bushes, living here is kind of like living in a nature preserve.