Sunshine State

Mural, St. Petersburg, Florida. Photo by the author.

The sun was hanging low behind the trees by the time we crossed the state line. Beyond the urban snarl of Jacksonville, we dropped into the north-central Florida of roadside gas stations staffed by Indian immigrants, mullet-wearing good ol’ boys driving pickup trucks and of conifer forests that sighed their fecund secrets into the gathering dark. By the time we arrived in St. Petersburg, after two days’ driving, we were exhausted. Despite the slight chill, the air was noticeably warmer than that in the little Pennsylvania river town I had left behind. My rented abode not yet ready, I unloaded my basic belongings into a short-term rental and walked the dog under the oak and banyan trees of the Pinellas County night.