Hands Across the Sand at Lake Eola

Orlando is about an hour from the Atlantic and about an hour and a half from the Gulf. So when I heard about Hands Across the Sand, I really wanted to drive to the beach to participate in this exercise to say no to offshore oil drilling and yes to clean energy. It was pointed out, however, that I would be a hypocrite by burning a great deal of fossil fuel in driving to the coast and back. Fortunately one of the 850 world-wide locations was just a couple miles from my house at Lake Eola.

I rode my bike downtown and rushed over to the lake and found three people holding a sign at the appointed meet-up location. Soon we were joined by others until we had between 30 and 40 like-minded individuals wanting to link hands in a show of unity for clean energy. We stood on the edge of the yucky green lake water, trying to hug the shade as it was pretty warm. In fact, I must say, riding your bike at midday in the Central Florida summer is a hot and sweaty endeavor. But it felt appropriate for the statement we were trying to make. I just hope clean energy solutions of the future include air conditioning!

I've never participated in something like this before, and I must admit I was not sure what to expect. Everyone I met seemed very kind and warm and committed to making this small stand. At first, I was pretty bummed that in a region with the population of Central Florida, only three dozen or so would show up. But later I saw photos of HATS folks all over the world and realized that we were part of something much, much bigger. Thousands of people all over the world, from India to South America, from Hawaii to Alaska, linked hands at the same time we did. In some places only three people gathered, in others the line of humanity stretched beyond the lens of the camera, appearing to extend into infinity.

It has been extremely frustrating to sit and watch the oil continue to gush into the Gulf and feel like we could only sit and watch. I know that linking hands for 15 minutes on a Saturday isn't going to make that stop. But as I saw the coverage of HATS on the national news, in the New York Times and all across the Internet, I have to think a message is being sent, that people are realizing the magnitude of whats going on in the Gulf and recognizing that we have to change the way we've been operating. For 15 minutes we stood in the humid Florida heat, linked hand-in-hand with our brothers and sisters around the world, and instead of feeling powerless, we felt pretty good. I look forward to having the opportunity to do it again.

Ed, our organizer

The nasty water at Lake Eola was a pretty good substitute for the oil-spilled waters of the Gulf

Perhaps this is to keep the swans from noticing the conditions of the water?

Our unofficial HATS mascot, Daisy

Recently repaired Lake Eola Fountain

Panhandle on the brain: Panama City, FL

I just read that the oil spill is just seven miles from the beaches of Florida's panhandle. Another article on the Sentinel website lists lists the top ten beaches in the US and the authority who created the list would not add a beach from the panhandle because of the threat of the oil spill. Past panhandle best beach winners include St. Joseph Peninsula in Port St. Joe in 2002, St. Andrews State Park in Panama City in 1995, and Grayton Beach State Park in Santa Rosa Beach in 1994.

I went into the Visual Ephemera archives and found these images from a late summer trip to the panhandle I took with Mrs. Ephemera in 2006. We stayed in Appalachicola and Panama City and despite it being the hottest time of the year, we had a wonderful time exploring what has now been re-branded as "Florida's Great Northwest." Here are a few memories of that brief excursion.





Much of the beachfront of the "Redneck Riviera" has been lost to giant condo towers, but we found a nice little motel that had been slightly "boutique-ified" located a block off the beach. As we are not sun worshipers, (just yesterday the dermatologist warned me to "stay out of the sun"), we mostly visited the beach in the morning or in the early evening. The beaches of the panhandle are known for their sugar like color and consistency and Panama City's beaches were, at that time, pretty gorgeous.

We explored the great little downtown area and found lots of antique stores and the wonderful Martin Theatre built in 1936 (originally as the Ritz Theatre.)

The strip along the beach has some of my all time favorite kitschy Florida roadside icons, which will be explored further in future posts. My heart is with all the folks in the panhandle whose lively hood depends on those beautiful beaches, the turquoise waters and the critters living beneath the waters. After being battered by hurricanes and the collapse of the real estate market, I'm guessing things are already pretty tough up there. I wish them the strength to endure this next challenge to their local economy.

Bubbling over

Behind our our house is a lake too small for any kind of motorized watercraft, so apart from an occasional canoe, it is left mostly to the birds, fish, turtles and otters whose ancestors have inhabited the place much longer than people have. Guarding the lake's edge are ancient live oaks and a couple of really old cypress trees. I guess my perspective is that there is something enduring about this little body of water, and while we are here it is our job to fit in with the other inhabitants and try to ensure that it remains healthy for future generations. From the day I moved here, I have felt like I was a steward, not an owner of this little bit of heaven, and I want to make sure that nothing I do has an adverse effect on its ecosystem. So I endure my neighbors thinly veiled, passive aggressive comments about my grass, because I don't want to dump a bunch of fertilizer on my lawn and find a fish kill the next day because the fertilizer spawned an algae bloom. The peace and serenity my wife and I take from the lake and its critters is priceless.

So it is beyond belief to me, that there is such a lack of environmental stewardship occurring to one of Florida's greatest natural resources, the Gulf of Mexico. Anyone who has ever walked on a beach from the sugar white shores of Pensacola to the shell-strewn sands of Sanibel Island, knows the unmatched beauty of the Gulf. I think generally most Floridians are angered by the oil spill but we really don't know what to do. I was ready to rush over to Tampa Bay and help clean up birds and/or beaches, but the oil has not washed up there yet. I considered boycotting BP, but I don't normally buy gas there anyway, and according to an article in today's paper, all the stations are locally owned and any boycotts would hurt those owners, not the corporation responsible for the spill. And I'm nervous that hurricane season officially starts tomorrow and that any kind of tropical weather will only further delay BP's impotent attempts to stop the oil gushing into our waters. As I a Floridian who has found profound peace and connection on Florida's Gulf shores, I'm angry, frustrated and deeply saddened that this environmental disaster continues to unfold, with no end in sight.

Below are images of the what is at risk.