Gainesville Gargoyles

I worked in the Chemistry Department for over four years when I attended the University of Florida, in the middle of what is now known as the University of Florida Historic District. I'm not sure if it was a historic district then, and sadly if it was I never noticed. I visited the district recently driven by quest for all things Ponce de Leon related, after seeing a photo of a frieze with Florida's European discoverer at the Matheson Museum.

Spanish Discovery of Florida Freize - Sledd Hall

While I really looked closely at the Gothic architecture for the first time, I was really blown away by the carved details on the buildings. How I walked by these every day and was oblivious, is a mystery to me, but I think the truth is as I've gotten older, I've grown more interested in architecture and the environment around me. I like to think I notice more. So for me it was a fresh discovery and I had a wonderful time documenting just a portion of the carvings in this one section of campus.

Bay Window of the Reading Room- Fletcher Hall

Carving from Bay Window of the Reading Room- Fletcher Hall

Detail of Gator from the Reading Room Bay Window - Fletcher Hall

I'm not sure what this supposed to be - a crab maybe?

Reading Student - Sledd Hall

Chemistry Student- Sledd Hall

Fraternity Member giving the thumbs down- Sledd Hall

Football Player- Sledd Hall

Sledd Hall seemed to have the largest amount of intricate carving and by far the most ornate was the Mucozo Tower. The UF website describes it this way:

"Sledd Hall, designed by University Architect Rudolph Weaver, was built in 1929 and links to Fletcher and Thomas Halls. Sculptural figures along the cornice depict the all male student population of the period engaged in a variety of activities. Plaques with seals of great universities of the world suggested the University's goals for academic achievement. Courtyard entrances to the individual suites are enhanced with figures representing creatures from the sea and the local region. A sculptural frieze depicts the Spanish discovery of Florida and reflects the Spanish heritage of the state. Another sculptural relief depicts students with architectural tools and sporting equipment. An outstanding feature of the building was the Mucozo Tower South entrance to the dormitory courtyard. The sculptural features recognize the friendship of Chief Mucozo and Spanish explorer Juan Ortiz. The tower also included a trunk depository, where students' luggage was loaded on a dumb waiter to the storage level below. Sledd Hall was named for the first UF president, Dr. Andrew Sledd."

A couple more:

Buckman Hall "Anguished Scholar"

Corbel at the University Auditorium

It's in the water - three conversations

I had a great Thanksgiving weekend – I ate to over-capacity, visited with relatives, had fun taking pictures and had three interesting conversations about water. The discussions, on different days with separate people all seemingly had different subjects yet shared the same thread: Florida's water quality has been significantly compromised and the prognosis for the future is not good unless we make some changes.


Conversation 1

Location: Oviedo, FL

Topic: Lake Hourglass

Living on a small lake near the heart of Orlando has changed me by making more aware of the natural environment I live in and the delicate balance of nature in an urban setting. I have always wanted to know more about my lake, but couldn't find much information. That changed on Thanksgiving because a relative of my wife's cousin's husband actually grew up on our little lake. She told us of swimming in the lake all year long and even water skiing (tough to imagine due to the lakes small size.) The lake was much clearer then, you could see the bottom from the deeper water and you could even feel cold water from seeps in the aquifer, according to our new source. There was a small fish camp, (used as tiny houses today), and when water hyacinths took over the lake our new friend's father painstakingly removed them by hand, all by himself! The water quality went south when the city allowed street drainage to flow into the lake. Later, to combat a growing aquatic weed problem Blue Tilapia were introduced to try to control the spread and today they overwhelm the lake, crowding out native species. The lake she described bore little resemblance to the lake we live on now. Although we love our lake dearly, I've never seen anyone swim in it.

The abundant Tilapia make for easy meals for the Osprey

______________________________________________

Conversation 2

Location: The Elks Lodge, Gainesville, Florida

Topic: The pool at Glen Springs

I was thrilled to get a glimpse into Glen Springs last month but was only able to photograph it with my cellphone camera. Because of that blog, I got in touch with Linda Califf, an Elks Club member who has taken on the challenge of preserving the pool around the spring. She has also researched the history of the spring and the pool, and is actively seeking donations to assist with the site's preservation. Linda and two other Lodge members rotate cleaning the pool every day, unclogging the drainage between the sections and making sure the water flows unimpeded into the creek below. As she toured myself and three others around the pool, she related how far the pool had come, from being entirely covered with algae to being relatively clean in about four months! Almost single-handedly she has improved the water quality and the over all aesthetics of one of Gainesville's most under appreciated cultural resources.

Some history of the springs as published in Linda's brochure on the spring:

• The property surrounding the springs was purchased in 1924 by Cicero Addison Pound (the high school I attended was on land donated by Mr. Pound)
• The pool itself was probably designed by Guy Chandler Fulton, an Architect to the Board of Control from 1945 until 1956
• The pool was probably constructed in 1940
• The pool stopped being used for swimming in the mid-1970s
  

Fall leaves make keeping the Glen Springs pool even more labor intensive

The structure of the former diving board remains intact

Despite this litter on the bottom, Linda and her fellow Elks
have done a remarkable job cleaning up the spring

If you'd like to help with the preservation of the Glen Springs pool,
email Linda at lindacaliff@att.net

______________________________________________

Conversation 3

Location: Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings State Park, Cross Creek

Topic: Orange Lake

Two days after Thanksgiving, Mrs. Ephemera and I stopped by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings State Park, as she had never been there before. Walking through the grounds I noticed a path headed in the direction of the lake, which has a boat ramp in another area of the park. I asked an employee of the park, if the path did in fact go to the lake and she informed us that the lake was entirely dry. I had noticed that Cross Creek, which connects Orange Lake and Lake Lochloosa, was dried up, but had not imagined the 13,000 acre Orange Lake would be dry as well. She told us that the well that Rawlings used back in the 1920s and '30s was only 8 feet deep. To reach water today, the same well would have to go down well over 100 feet deep. In addition to a severe drought, over-taxing the Floridan Aquifer (the water stored in subterranean limestone caverns below the state) had led to drastically reduced water levels. She said she had seen vintage images of nearby Silver Glen Springs where the boil over the spring was so strong that it actually shot up above the surface of the lake, a site I've never witnessed at any of Florida's springs.

Images from the State Archives of Florida show what once North Florida's largest lake

Returning home to Central Florida, the Orlando Sentinel happened to be running a two-part series called "Precious Water" about water issues facing the state. Just today, former Florida Governor/US Senator Bob Graham announced a new Conservation Coalition, committed to preserving the state's precious water resources. As I travel around the state, experiencing the natural, historical and and cultural treasures of the state, I see the biggest threat to their survival being over-development, an issue that is directly correlated to the allocation of our water. How we solve the challenges related to this issue will largely determine if Florida will be a place worth calling home in the future.

Today the Orange Lake boat ramp leads only to weeds

Cross Creek, sans water

Return to Treasure Island

"The Surf is coming down because it costs too much to upgrade the ailing building, whose space-age, 1950s furniture has never been replaced and whose mid century look was featured in Architectural Digest. A 30-unit hotel-condo is planned to rise in its place. Each unit could cost near $400,000, as opposed to The Surf's rents of $66 a night." - St. Petersburg Times

The Surf Motel closed on Sunday April 18, 2004. I remember reading about the controversy surrounding its demise online, there was even a website created to encourage support for the Surf. The New York Times reported the story, yet the Surf was demolished and a new condo created.

Built in 1956, the Surf was among a number of Googie Motels on Treasure Island near St. Pete Beach. It had been some time since I had visited this small Pinellas County community, and I was eager to see what had survived since the Surf's demise. I felt a huge sense of relief when I saw the towering monolith of the Thunderbird Motel. The T-Bird must be one of the best neon signs in all of Florida and it appears little changed from its mid-century glory days. Nearby other mom-and-pop beach cottages, motels and apartments appear to be hanging in there.

My favorite is the quaint Sea Jay, which also boasts a wonderful neon sign, one of my all time Florida Faves. The whole complex is like a time machine back to the 1950s with Featherstone pink plastic flamingos, well-maintained shuffleboard courts and an elevated swimming pool. I only had time for a brief survey, but I'm buoyed by the prospect that one Florida community has still retained some vintage charm in the face of the overwhelming bland developments that permeate the rest of the state.

Vintage images from the State Archives of Florida

Peering into the Abyss

After seeing spectacular underwater images of the crystal clear waters of North Florida springs, I became obsessed with taking my own underwater photos. So I purchased a camera on Amazon and patiently waited for a free weekend day where I could cobble enough time together to head to a spring. The closest spring to my downtown Orlando home is Wekiva Spring State Park, so on a rainy Sunday afternoon, Mrs. Ephemera and I raced north on I-4 to make my first attempt at photography in the underwater realm.

Wekiva Springs is surrounded by development. High-end residential housing and commercial properties push right up against the boundaries of the park. When I made a visit to the spring over the summer, I watched from the above the water as tri-atheletes swam laps in the spring's basin. On this rainy November visit the spring wasn't crowded but there were still swimmers enjoying the chilly water.

Donning my newly purchased fins, mask and snorkel I initially thought the water didn't seem to cold. It was a bit cumbersome to try to see the back of the camera through my mask which often filled with water in. Combined with the fact that I am blind as a bat without my glasses, meant that at first I had no idea what I was photographing. Eventually I got the hang of it and could actually line up what I was try to shoot.

As I made my way over to the boil, I noticed that the huge rock walls that formed the canyon from where the water comes out of the aquifer was covered with algae. The surface of the water also had a layer of floating algae that I had navigate through as I snorkeled along the surface. The recreational swimmers, without masks, seemed oblivious to the green goo, but I was struck by the contrast between this spring and the pristine ones in North Florida that inspired this adventure.

At first I was concerned that the algae seemed to be the only life in the spring, but I eventually found some bluegill swimming near the bottom. I approached the boil again, fighting to maintain my position against the water pushing its way through from the earth. Despite the algae, it is an awe-inspiring sight to see the where the edge drops straight down into nothingness. Swimming between the "cliffs" and looking down is a bit frightening as the darkness appears to go on forever.

Eventually I noticed I was shaking too much to hold the camera still. 72 degree water is cold even if the air temperature is an equivalent temperature. I got out and dried off having seen enough. I look forward to going to other springs to see if I have a similar experience (there are over 700 in Florida.)

The advocacy group that works on behalf of the springs and the Wekiva River has this statement on their website: "...the environmental quality of the Wekiva basin continues to be threatened. Loss of habitat, decline in spring flow, increased nutrients in the water (especially nitrates), increased water consumption, wildlife mortality on existing roadways, and proposals for new roadways through the basin are but a few of the issues that demand constant monitoring. The effects of these issues are cumulative." While there was still beauty to the spring, it was clear to my untrained eye that the amount of algae present was not good. The result of my Sunday adventure was a renewed commitment to help raise awareness to help protect these sacred waters. The Friends of the Wekiva will be hearing from me soon.