I should’ve sent a letter. I’ll just slip this card into this envelope here…
So, I was a bit unrealistic. My expectations of the Fountain of Youth was impossible. I knew it going in, regardless of how promising this postcard is. Somehow I let myself hang onto the notion there may be some truth to the elixir. Judging by my meloncholy after sipping the mineral-heavy agua, I clearly expected some whacked-magic just might happen for our super hero, Carlos.
The Fountain of Youth is an open air museum, and our pooch was allowed in every venue within their property. So, we gathered in a small theater for an educational video, we saw a canon demonstration,
walked through a primitive church, poked our heads in structures demonstrating Timucuan Indian life, and early Spanish settler life. There’s an active archaeological dig in progress, still uncovering new artifacts. No two ways about it, this was worth every nickel, even if we didn’t shed decades.
Last weekend there was another lesson: manatees do not have the cute factor I anticipated. (That notion was probably another myth instilled by too many postcards.) Less than an hour away is a fresh water spring, Blue Spring. Here, manatees gather to soak in warm, bubbly, spa-like water and munch on veggies. There were dozens of these big loafs. And, basically, that’s what they were: loafs.
Floating, slow motion, flubber. From every angle I could manage, I got flubber. I could not capture cute factor.
No tiny wing-like arms, no plump marshmallow nose. No fetus-shaped, roly-poly, playful activity. If I was lucky: two nostrils tentatively pop up.
I appreciate learning these sorts of things. So what, these guys are boring lugs. Now I know. Next time my expectations will be in check, and I betcha’ I get some incredible shots!
Here’s to lookin’ forward to all the “next times”!