"Bird Cities"

Rookery in the Everglades, State Archives of Florida

"...once you have seen an American egret standing against a background of tules with its yellow peak glistening, and the breeze ruffling the long nuptial plumes; or once you have surprised a snowy egret dancing about catching crawfish in a park pool–not fifty feet from a busy street:– the world will never quite look the same to you. And if you should ever see a wild flamingo take flight, or a flock of roseate spoonbills soaring, with the sun shining through their wings, this dull world would seem a place of magic." – Joy Postle, Glamour Birds of the Americas

Artist Joy Postle and her husband Robert Blackstone came to Florida at a time when poaching birds for their plumes was still a viable way to earn a living. Camping in the Everglades, they came encountered a lawman who warned them to be aware of dangerous poachers. He gave Joy a small Derringer pistol as protection and today the little gun is in the archives of the University of Central Florida. Ever the adventurers, Postle and Blackstone eventually did cross paths with poachers, but used the opportunity to purchase some bootleg liquor, so the story goes.

Postle describes living amid a bird rookery: "We were so entranced by the egrets, herons, ibis, and other wading birds, that we wanted to know them intimately. We learned that they nested in large colonies or "bird cities," usually on islands or in dense swamps...We made daily visits to the bird colony, and from a perch in a leaning live oak, watched the courting, nest building, brooding of the blue-green eggs, and feeding of the young...The plume birds accepted us as good neighbors, and some returned our visits...."

Ibis painting by Joy Postle, collection of Denise Hall

Some of the first "bird cities" to be protected from poachers in the United States were created right here in Florida.

Pelican Island National Wildlife Refuge
"Pelican Island holds a unique place in American history, because on March 14, 1903, President Theodore Roosevelt designated it as the Nation's first National Wildlife Refuge to protect brown pelicans and other native birds nesting on the island. This was the first time the federal government set aside land for the sake of wildlife. The Refuge celebrates its Centennial Anniversary in 2003 and now the refuge system consists of more than 530 refuges on nearly 95 million acres of our nation's most important wildlife habitats."

Teddy Roosevelt, State Archives of Florida

Bird Island in Orange Lake
According to this website, "the reserve was purchased In 1910-11, when Florida Audubon Society member Oscar Baynard encouraged the National Audubon Society to purchase the property in Alachua County." The site also states that conservationist and bird expert T. Gilbert Pearson wrote about the colony in Birds of America, originally published in 1936.

Audubon of Florida today still owns 113 acres of lake bottom and most of Bird Island east of the town of Orange Lake between Gainesville and Ocala. "An important rookery for herons, egrets, and White Ibises, it was established in 1910 as the first Audubon sanctuary in the United States" and it was the only rookery that was successfully defended against the plume hunters, according to the Audubon website.

Osprey at St. Marks, NWR

St. Marks NWR
From the NWR website: "This unique refuge was established in 1931 to provide wintering habitat for migratory birds. It is one of the oldest refuges in the National Wildlife Refuge System. It encompasses 68,000 acres spread out between Wakulla, Jefferson, and Taylor counties along the Gulf Coast of northwest Florida. The refuge includes coastal marshes, islands, tidal creeks and estuaries of seven north Florida rivers, and is home to a diverse community of plant and animal life. The refuge also has strong ties to a rich cultural past, and is home to the St. Marks Lighthouse, which was built in 1832 and is still in use today."

State Archives of Florida

Today the legacy of those pioneering environmentalists endures in Florida, as birds have become a large part of state's iconography. Contemporary artists follow in the footsteps of John James Audubon, Joy Postle, Sam Stoltz and even the Highwaymen in keeping the creative tradition alive of using Florida's birds as subject matter. We have the individuals who created those preserves at the beginning of the 2oth century to thank for sticking their necks out for our fine feathered friends or there might not be any wading birds left for us to celebrate.

Audubon Flamingo, State Archives of Florida

Flamingos by Sam Stoltz

Bird details from Bok Tower, originally Mountain Lake Bird Sanctuary

Contemporary mural from Dixie Crossroads, Titusville

Surreal stuffed animals or taxidermy treasures?

I admitted in a recent post about the Shell Factory that I found the most interesting thing to be the enormous collection of stuffed wildlife. A recent review of photographs shows that this attraction to images of taxidermy treasures is not new and despite my wife's protests, I'm trying to understand why I find this so intriguing.

Shell Factory, North Ft. Myers, FL

Part of it is that they are seem very surreal in their man-made environments. Lit by fluorescent bulbs, under acoustic ceiling tiles, they provide a jarring juxtaposition between the untamed natural world and our safe inside spaces.

Shell Factory, North Ft. Myers, FL

Maybe it's because they are so lifelike and their sad eyes seem to follow you and stare at you. Do their eyes capture their last thought, "please don't shoot me!"? Of course their eyes are glass...

Shell Factory, North Ft. Myers, FL

Homosassa Springs, FL

Perhaps I'm trying to figure out why we seem to like put dead things on display. Or at least their skins. Is it to show we can conquer nature? Is it our vanity? Or do we find these creatures beautiful and just like looking at them?

Sarasota Jungle Gardens, Sarasota, FL

Postcard for Thomas Edison's Winter Estate, Ft. Myers, FL

College Park home, Orlando, FL

I think my fascination with stuffed fish began as a kid. My dad has a big stuffed largemouth bass that I used to love to look at. I dreamed of one day catching a fish large enough to get stuffed one day. I knew it cost lot of money, but I was willing to save and save. It was a mute point as I never caught any fish large enough... and what about using dead fish for decorating? Living in Florida my whole life, it seems somewhat more acceptable to hang up a stuffed fish, than a deer head, maybe because they are not mammals.

Taxidermy shop, Deland, FL

I saw a special on TV about these photographers who went around the UK documenting every stuffed polar bear in the British Isles. They were raising awareness of the plight of the polar bears. Might these bizarre objects be all we have left to remind us of the way things used to be in the wild before we destroyed most of the natural habitats? Some of these are for learning purposes, I suppose... Is it different than putting dinosaur bones on display?

Homosassa Springs, FL

Yellowstone National Park

Dixie Crossroads, Titusville, FL

Is it gross? Or is there something in our DNA similar to the same instinct that made early Homo Sapiens paint cave pictures of the game they hunted? I'm open to all theories....

Dixie Crossroads

There aren't many restaurants with staying power in Central Florida. Eateries are an institution one day and gone the next. Gary's Duck Inn was such so legendary that it's concept was taken nationwide as Red Lobster. The fun, quirky Bubble Room in Maitland closed. Ronnies Diner is no more. Chains and franchises litter the landscape.

One eatery that seems to grow and expand every time I visit, however, is Dixie Crossroads in Titusville. Disney has Mickey, SeaWorld has Shamu, and Dixie Crossroads has Mr. Rock, the Rock Shrimp. Served cracked open like miniature lobsters, this sweet little critter has turned Dixie Crossroads into a theme park-like atmosphere devoted to good eatin'. And every meal comes with corn fritters, sweet version of hush puppies with powdered sugar sprinkled on top.


The decor of Dixie Crossroads is a shrine to the anthropromorphic rock shrimp and Florida's native environment in which he lives. There are gigantic murals showing a proliferation of birds and other critters, life-sized rock shrimp for picture taking purposes, and a pond full of fish you can feed (Tilapia?) while you're waiting to be seated inside. Inside the wildlife theme continues with good and bad artwork of your favorite Florida flora and fauna.

It's kind of like a Disneyed version of Southern seafood restaurant. But on steroids. They have spin-off versions on I-drive and Mt. Dora, but to me the Titusville version is one-of-a-kind. A day spent bird watching at the nearby Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge, followed by a meal at Dixie Crossroads encompasses two wildly different sides of Florida – it's natural beauty and it's manmade kitsch. And it just doesn't get any better!