My Life on the Rocks

I have a new obsession, I mean hobby. I stumbled upon it at the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive, my favorite local birding area, with over 367 species noted. In addition, it is chocked full of alligators. Otters, raccoons, and the occasional bobcat family reside in the area. And, rocks can be found there!

This may be surprising to you as by now you likely know that I live in Central Florida. We are not known for our rocks down here. Sand, rain, hurricanes, mosquitoes, construction on I-4 – yes. Rocks – not so much. Be that as it may, there is no denying that I collect rocks, and my favorite place to find them is the North Shore of Lake Apopka.

I’m not talking about your everyday, run-of-the-mill rocks. I also don’t care if they are igneous, sedimentary, or metamorphic, which are the three rock classifications that I may or may not have had to verify on google. I have two classifications for my rocks. Painted and not painted. For me to collect one, it must have something pretty or fun painted on it. I will also accept the occasional chunk of concrete, seashell, or wood if it’s painted.

I’m not sure exactly when the rock hiding craze started, but I know it’s in full swing. Over a year ago, as I was scrolling the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive Facebook page, I learned of a few generous painters who would leave “Easter eggs” out there for people to find. This was going to be better than my childhood collection of bottle caps. Plus, I wouldn’t have to hide it under my bed to avoid ridicule from my siblings.

I love going to the drive and looking at the birds, especially in the winter during migration times and in the spring during nesting season. I’ve also seen river otters and marsh rabbits. Bobcats are there, too; but you couldn’t prove it by me. Summer is full of alligators (my highest one-day count is 113) and what I believe should be the Florida state bird – the Common Gallinule. They are everywhere – much more common than the Northern Mockingbird.

So even though I told myself and anyone who might ask me that I was finished going to the drive until it cools down, I was compelled to go. Because there are rocks, and they are pretty. Plus, it gives me a rush to find them, which is probably because I have no talent in that arena. I can’t draw a straight line with a ruler.

It took me a long time to find my first. I was lamenting about my lack of success to my friend, Debi. Debi is one of those people who wins contests. She offered that I could have one of hers – a magnanimous gesture which would take the fun out of it for someone as competitive as I am. And, of course, Debi had found several. Her keen eye did not surprise me, but I declined her generous offer. I must find one all by myself – like a big girl.

Last February, I found one. It was beautiful, even though it was not a depiction of nature. It was a taco. Still, I like tacos and I was thrilled to find a rock of my very own. I put my taco rock on the shelf for all to see. What an accomplishment! I was happy.

Happiness sure is fleeting. It didn’t take long for me to realize that having one lone taco rock was a lot like eating one taco, or worse yet, Chinese food; you get hungry again fast. You must have more.

Since Facebook has a page designated to the Drive, I learned about a lady named Liz who paints the coolest rocks. I marveled that people would use their talents to bless people they likely would never meet, so my fascination grew and grew. Soon rock painters/hiders were springing up on the Facebook page displaying the rocks they would be hiding. I started trying to figure out the best times to go to the drive and add to my taco rock. But my goal was to find a Liz rock.

Over the summer weeks, not every time I went but often, I found a rock or two while on the drive. (In case you’re wondering, you can get out of your car. There are pull-outs and other trails and areas to observe nature and there is signage to identify the local flora and fauna.) I have rock art by several local birding/painting enthusiasts.

I wished I could paint a rock and leave it for someone to find. My friend, Peggy, even suggested that I could. I thought Peggy knew me better! But I did want to leave something for someone – to give back a little. The only thing I have created besides my four children, who clearly wouldn’t stand for being left out on the shores of Lake Apopka, is my children’s book, ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE MAGIC. Florida is more than a little humid with chances of extreme downpours, so it was foolish to leave a book out there. I had to create a plan.

I carried a couple of my books in the car with me, but in the summer months, I barely encountered any other people much less children. Then one day I saw on Facebook that my favorite artist, Liz, was meeting another artist, Lee, at a particular time and spot on the drive. Game on!

Bob and I, along with my sister, headed out to hopefully intercept that meeting. I had three of my books with me. Everything seemed against us getting to that meeting on time. The drive-through at McDonald’s was particularly slow and I’ll admit it – I complained. I was anxious. I was ridiculous. My sweet sister mentioned that maybe the delay would work for us in God’s timing. She was right.

We pulled in just in time to find Liz and Lee. Bob slowed the car down to about 8 mph and I jumped out before Lee could leave. I was so excited to meet him and when I gave him a book, he gave me and my sister magnets that he had made from his extraordinary photographs. How fun!

Meanwhile, Bob and my sister were talking to Liz. I was so happy to meet her; and I gave her a book as well, thanking her for how giving she is and for the fun that she and others have added to an already wonderful drive. She was so sweet and then she did the unimaginable – she gave my sister and me a rock each. Well, mine was a bluebird painted on a wooden egg. I love it. My goal of having a Liz creation was met and then some!

“The bluebird carries the sky on his back.” Henry David Thoreau

Farther down the road, we met a lady named Patty, who, you guessed it, also paints rocks. I was glad I brought three books.

These two are among my favorites which were found by people who were doing the drive with me. The alligator is the rock Liz gave to my sister.

This is a sample of my collection.

I have rehidden a few and might do a few more. I hear of people re-hiding them to spread out the blessing. I told Bob that I was so happy to have a Liz rock. If I find another one, well then, I’ll have two! Sharing only goes so far!

Wicked Weather

The forecast was foreboding, but we didn’t let the tornado warnings keep us from our Wicked plan. We arrived at the Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts in downtown Orlando before the storm hit, and we remained ensconced in the magical Land of Oz until after it blew through. (Thankfully, there were no tornadoes here, but it was windy enough for us to think about calling Auntie Em.)


Our seats were in the second row of the balcony, so in the middle of Act 1 when the place started buzzing (literally buzzing), we had a bird’s-eye view of the auditorium. Hundreds of silenced cell phones alerted us to the fact that wicked weather was on the horizon. We were all momentarily distracted from being immersed in the play. Cell phones were checked, but nobody left. Why would we – we were already in a windowless room.

As they say, the show must go on, and it did. The performance was wonderful. The cast didn’t miss a beat during the buzzing of the cell phones. (I’m not sure if that is good or not, but I’m going with good in this case.)

I have to say, my husband picked the perfect night for us to see Wicked. I’ve heard of pairing your wine with your dinner, but pairing the weather with the performance is really taking it up a notch.

(My thoughts and prayers are with the communities who were hit hard by this line of storms. After I saw the news this morning, I realized though our area was spared, others were not.)

Florence – Why Don’t we Call You Firenze?  (Europe Part 5)

I cannot figure out why we call some cities by their native name and others by the English/American version.  For instance, Rome vs Roma, Florence vs Firenze, Munich vs Munchen.  I have decided not to contemplate this too much because I am on vacation, but I will say it is much more fun to say Roma, Munchen and Firenze.

Speaking of Firenze, that was our destination today.  Florence had the hustle and bustle going from the minute we turned onto its streets.  Cars stacked up at intersections and motorcycles darted in between them in spaces thinner than a pepperoni.  It was unnerving but totally worth every nail that was bitten off during the drive.

Seeing the Statue of David by Michelangelo would be reason enough to go to this city. He was magnificent.  At 17 feet tall, he literally was head and shoulders above all the other statues in the corridor.

 He was not the only attraction in his area, though surely he was the main attraction.  Michelangelo also had a hall lined with his Statuas Incompiuta (Unfinished Statues).  According to Michelangelo, the figures were already in the stone just waiting to emerge as he sculpted.  They were fascinating.

  

 And, of course, there is a duomo in Florence.  As we left the city an orchestra had assembled on the front steps of the cathedral and gave a small concert.  They appeared one by one as musicians playing solo and then they came together with a sound so magnificent that it brought tears to my eyes.

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As we headed down the autostrada toward our resort, an hour and a half away, we decided we would take a different route home.  We exited at Chiusi to look for dinner in this small town or any of the others that dot the meandering roads on our way back.  It was not looking too promising to find anything.  The landscape was becoming more and more rural.  Our plan was to follow the signs for the first eatery of any kind that we came across.

Since there was nobody else on the road, when we noticed a small sign Bob screeched to a stop and we turned up the unpaved road.  This was what they refer to here as a white road – gravel and narrow.  At the end of this road we found a charming little restaurant, Trattoria del Contadino, and had the best meal of our trip.  We were the only guests and were treated like VIPs – from the antipasto tray all the way to the limoncello at the end of our meal.  It was perfecto.

Unfortunately we lingered long enough that Bob had to drive the white road out of there. We were thankful to be back in our beds that night.

The views at night are a bit more terrifying.

The views at night are a bit more terrifying.

The Sistine Chapel (Europe Part 2)

During our last trip to Rome the Sistine Chapel was closed for the day – that was quite the disappointment.  But, since I had thrown a coin into the Trevi Fountain on that visit I knew I would return.  This time I was not disappointed. Michelangelo’s magnificent ceiling was more beautiful than I had imagined.  But it was his The Last Judgment painting that got to me.  As you walk into the Chapel, you pass under The Last Judgment.  The symbolism was striking.  I entered into the chapel under judgment.  I walked out in freedom because of what Christ did for me.  He took my penalty.  The One who was sinless has cloaked me in his righteousness.  Such a picture!

Photographs are not allowed to be taken in the Sistine Chapel.  The tour guides take you to the museum gardens near the chapel and explain what you will see.  There are panels with pictures of all of the art work displayed for their tutorial.  This is a picture of The Last Judgment from one of those panels.

Of course it does not do the original work justice, but in case you have not seen it before, I wanted to show you.  Especially vivid is the bottom right corner where those who were not covered by the blood of Jesus entered eternal damnation.  Of interest, the man depicted prominently is said to have criticized Michelangelo’s work.  I guess that is one way to be immortalized in art.

The other work that affects me so much that I find it difficult to stop looking at it is La Pieta in St. Peter’s Basilica.  Michelangelo was 23 when he was commissioned to do this work.

 Our guide told us that it is said that Michelangelo worked alone.  Other artists had students who often worked on projects with them, but Michelangelo did these two works of art alone.  My take on what she said is that his genius did not lend itself to working and playing well with others.  That made me think of how God has gifted people so individually for the work that he has for them.  Perhaps If Michelangelo was more of a teacher or less of a perfectionist he would not have created these masters.  I am not an art scholar by any means, but that was food for thought for me.