Waterworld

Hi friends,

I watered my plants this morning. The plants that survive on the least amount of water. Now it is pouring rain. Because I watered my drought tolerant plants this morning.

I grew up in a state with multiple water boundaries. Lake Michigan to the east, Lake Superior to the north and the Mississippi river on the western edge. I moved to a peninsula attached to a peninsula. Two blocks away (to the West) is Old Tampa Bay; nine miles away is the Gulf of Mexico. Water surrounds most of Pinellas County and certainly most of Florida. I thought I understood water.

In Wisconsin, the April showers brought the May flowers. Cold rainy days were the norm, and they brought the promise of springtime. During the summer sprinklers provided the gentle water needed to keep flower beds beautiful and lawns green. Water from the tap tasted good, it was cold and fresh (we won’t discuss that nasty cryptosporidium episode from years ago). Water wasn’t much of a thought; it was just there.

Water is so different in Florida. I’ve concluded that there are two realities – you have too much, or not enough. My morning watering is a case in point; it’s the rainy season and yet plants are wilting, almost melting and they need water now but of course, the forecast is for rain later. And then it doesn’t rain, so the next day you water those melting plants and the rain follows in intense bursts. It soaks all living things but doesn’t seem to soak into the ground. That last part takes some getting used to. Last year we went to buy some succulents for the front yard. It started to pour as we loaded them in Dan’s Ranchero, and poured all the way home. Two hours later the deluge stopped, and we went out to dig holes. The first spade full of sand came out of the hole—bone dry. 

And freshwater lakes? Despite what my sweet sister says, there is nothing lurking under the water in any Wisconsin lake that will stalk you and kill you. Here in Florida, if you are looking at freshwater, you are also looking at an alligator. You couldn’t pay me enough to jump into freshwater here. Let your dog loose near freshwater and then express shock when the dog goes down and never comes back. Why would you let your best canine friend swim in Alligator Lake? (This is a real place a few blocks away. It’s a man-made lake maybe 40 years old and full of alligators. Right before we moved here they banned teaching kids to waterski on the lake. And people complained! On our first visit to City Hall the clerk was telling us that people will come in and complain that they were throwing a ball for Fido and he never came back.) 

Can I get you a glass of water? Here Dan and I disagree, he’s okay with water out of the tap and to me, it has a nasty taste. I drink filtered water from the fridge, it’s the closest I can get to Milwaukee tap water.

And finally, the pool, something I insisted on when we moved to Florida. A backyard destination on a hot day, or for visiting family and friends on a cool winter day. I spend a lot of time…cleaning the pool…not so much swimming in it. That’s okay, I wanted it, but once again it’s either too much water or not enough. When it pours rain, and the pool tops off, it’s the perfect time to invite friends over to cannonball. When it evaporates I put in the hose and add more water; and then it rains buckets within 24-hours.

I’ve never thought so much about water as I do in Florida. 

Stay hydrated. Much love,

Paula