THE LUMPY OAK

Every year the cold comes, the days get shorter, and I feel less and less like going out and hiking. Which is a vicious cycle, because when I hike less, I start feeling worse about myself, and begin to feel less and less like going out and hiking. In short, I'm seasonally affected.

In order to combat this I planned a lot of hikes this winter. I knew if I planned things ahead of time, and got others involved, I'd be less likely to back out. I hiked the Ichetucknee north and south trails, I explored Old Bellamy Road Interpretive Trail, I did the Blue Heron and Fox Squirrel loops at Watermelon Pond WEA, I even braved the sandspurs to see the beauty of the longleaf pines out at Bell Ridge WEA.

Finally, the day comes for a hike to the Fort White WEA. I had planned to go with my boyfriend, Joel, and we are especially looking forward to it. We heard there was a beautiful trail right along the river there. However, I’m feeling especially gloomy, and lumpy, and downright ugly and imperfect, and I tell him so.

"When you're feeling this way it's just proof that you need to get out on the trail and connect with nature," he patiently explains to me, "You'll see things differently once we get out there."

He's right and we go. I see tiny purple flowers, a shiny blue bug, and I identify a bush I've never noticed before! It's amazing how many different things you see on the Florida Trail in winter that you never see in summer. I remark on that, and stop to take a picture, and Joel takes a picture of me taking that picture. He tells me I look beautiful; he tells me I look joyous. I look at the picture and I agree.

Later, as we walk along that river trail we were excited about, he points out the lumpiest and bumpiest oak tree either of us have ever seen. Years of living at the flood line permanently marred this tree, but it was also the coolest tree ever. Maybe being lumpy and imperfect isn't so bad after all. Maybe there is even a bit of beauty in that imperfection. Maybe you really do see everything differently once you get out here.

The story begins in December 1978 when an official of the old Florida Department of Natural Resources invited the Florida Trail Association to send a delegation on a tour of the recently purchased Tosohatchee State Preserve. FTA jumped at the opportunity and former FTA President Karl Eichhorn pulled together a delegation that included soon to be Section Leader Bill Arbuckle and myself. The delegation was awestruck by the beauty and diversity of Tosohatchee. We envisioned a trail where hikers could experience the St. Johns River, virgin cypress, virgin longleaf pine, pine flatwoods, and hammocks. After the tour, FTA welcomed the challenge to build the trail. Planning the trail began in earnest in early 1979 under the leadership of Bill Arbuckle. Reflecting back, this was almost a magical time at Tosohatchee—an experience that could not be duplicated today. This small crew of a half dozen or so was granted a 28,000 acre canvas of pristine conservation land upon which to paint a trail system. We got to experience all the historic artifacts of the