I know I’m in Florida

I know I’m in Florida when . . .

. . . I’m invariably addressed by younger retail workers as “My dear,” except when I’m “Sweetheart.” Today I even got “Babe,” but I’m pretty sure that was a slip of the tongue.

. . . The hills (well, the flatlands) are alive with the sound of bulldozers. I wouldn’t swear this acreage down the road from Steve used to be an orange grove, but odds are good. Incidentally, the name of said road is Moccasin Hollow.

. . . There’s always something new to learn, especially in the natural world. This week’s surprise: the bay beaches hereabouts are littered with sea hares, a delightful sort of sea slug. When alarmed, they shoot out purple or garish pink ink. (I know; I accidentally stepped on one. I think it was already dead.) There’s a cool short video on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFAdts1xUMc&feature=share

. . . There are birds! Big enough for me to identify and photograph! Sandhill cranes and turkey vultures, right here in the suburbs!

A whole flock of royal terns on the beach that you could walk right up to and photograph! They were too cool in their Mohawks to let mere humans ruffle their feathers.

. . . Of course, the surroundings are completely different than in New England.

. . . And there are manatees! So far I’ve only seen them at a rescue facility, but will check out some springs soon.