Return of the Sun in the "Sunshine State"

Having been overcast, windy and often looking like rain as of late, Florida has cleared up and the sun has finally returned!

My time in Daytona was spent mainly with property shoots. It was a little exciting, being in a state so important to the outcome of the Presidential election. Campaign workers were out on the corners, holding McCain and Obama signs, until the very last hours of the polls. People wore their 'I voted' stickers and there was the same buzz in the air that was prevalent throughout the U.S. On the eve of the election the clouds finally began to break and the sun peaked through.

I was happy to be back in Florida. While the touristy beach stretches get old in a hurry, the weather feels quite healing and people are usually friendly and laid back. One sad thing is that beaches and ocean views are usually fenced off by the privately owned resorts. Depending on what town your in, these buildings can reach up some ten stories. It's only the owners, patrons and workers that get access to theses nice beaches, the public accesses tucked away here and there.

But even in the warmth of a Florida this gig can begin to get old and it becomes easier to focus on the occasional annoyances more often. But all of a sudden, you'll find yourself somewhere completely new and unexplored! Such was Tomoka State Park. Like many beachfront cities, Daytona Beach has island strips. Along one such strip, sandwiched between two rivers, is a park that preserves the oldest stand of old growth live oak in eastern Florida. Live oak trees are those enormous oaks, with octopus-like arms, usually draped in yet another strong symbol of the south, Spanish Moss.

The paved park road, like a vegetated tunnel, turned quickly into sand, with turn-offs here or there where you could picnic, fish or camp. It was not busy, this week day, and I soon found myself alone at the end. Stepping out of the car my senses charged my recently gloomy heart up quickly! There were oaks and palms and all sorts of ferns. The sandy floor helped to add to the 'soft' feel of the place. Before me was a great collage of statues. Several figures were reaching up to one strong figure at the zenith. He was a bold, fierce-looking individual, gazing out and spilling a cup down to the masses below. It had a Meso-America feel to it, somewhat Aztec-like. This made sense as it represented the Timucuan natives, whose midden-mounds of shells now create the beds of many a hammocked Florida island.

The shore was only 30 feet away on either side. You'd pass through a stand of ferns and be upon the beach, looking out at tiny palm islands standing in the river or brackish backwaters. In the spring and summer you could see manatees and dolphins here, but for now, there were some fish and heron.

Feeling charged I returned for the afternoon shoot, and then got additional sunny shots for the two previous properties before making the 3.5 hours drive to Bradenton, below St. Petersburg. I arrived after dark to discover one of the bridges was closed. After asking someone for directions I found another bridge which brought me to another island strip where I would shoot the next day.

Today the sun was out in full glory. The Gulf-side beach was caressed by bands of emerald waves and with the silouette of little tiki huts in the foreground, proved a nice video shot. Wanting to linger, but knowing that I would need to find a public beach to do that, I decided I should get going, backwards, up to Orlando.

When driving, I'll pass many things which catch the eye. Sometimes I'm pumped to explore, sometimes I just want to get where I'm going. I'm half motivated by personal interested, half by getting area footage. I passed some campers, sticking out of the ground in a series. Then, I came up to the giant dinosaurs of Dinosaur World and thought, "OK, I really should." And I did. Getting in free under the auspices of promotions, I got my shots of live-size dinosaur statues. They were clean and well-kept and the scenes were really helped by the fact that they sat in Florida, jungel-ey vegetation and were helped even further by the buzz of insects. I played with the camera and even stuck my head out of a tyrannosaurus Rex mouth, designed as a photo-op. I videoed it instead.

Finally, here comes Orlando. Once again, there's just something magic about it. Yes, it's crowded and you need money in order to participate but the air has that optimistic, summer day childhood aura. My lodging is in one of two towers, in a long room on the 8th floor, that has a balcony that looks across a lake. The puffy clouds reflect in this smooth body of water.

To end this day, some words on food. My first night was at an Italian restaurant where I went for some linguini and meatballs. But what stood out to me was the bread, a thick, doughy mass with a hard crust, accompanied with oil and vinegar, roasted garlic and olives. I had to ask how the vinegar was made, as it tasted of caramel. First, you bring some balsamic vinegar to a boil and throw in your sugar. Drizzle this on a plate, add your oil, previously soaked garlic and olives and you've the perfect bread dip. Yesterday, I had some shark. To me, it tasted like tuna, but I'm no connoisseur of either! And tonight, though trying to cut back, food becomes not only a hobby but an amphetamine. It was at a long deli/cafe. Once I saw the Moroccans out front smoking a hooka I was like, "Thank God!" Or Allah, for that matter. I had to go with the lamb kabob, or in Kiwi, kabab or in Greek, souvlaki. After the pound was served up with a tabouli-tasting salad, bread and Moroccan mint-tea (sweet), the cook came out and asked if I had enough meat. Ha! We agreed that when you find lamb you must indulge, it's hard to find, most coming from Australia or New Zealand.

The sliding door is open, Disney air is flowing off of the lake and tomorrow is a trip back down in the direction of St. Pete Beach, not my favorite by any means and I've yet to find something that sparks my interest there. That is my mission.