“How did we wind up here, shipwrecked at my mother's house? In Florida, this is a question I ask myself every day.” HomeTravelFloridaBeing Stranded Book:State of Paradise Source: State of Paradise
“My mother has taken an interest in utopian texts, now that Florida seems to be heading in the opposite direction, though every time she describes one of these alleged paradises they sound a little terrifying. Too much manual labor and religious fervor. In the end, my mother often seems disappointed by these utopias too; she is still searching for her true north.” ReligionReadingBooksLaborParadiseFloridaUtopiaDirectionUtopian Books Book:State of Paradise Source: State of Paradise
“My husband is nervous about a lot of things down here, like the monstrous size of the fire ants and the quality of the gasoline, because half the time the gas stations are out, the nozzles bundled up in black garbage bags, or the credit card readers don't work or the attendant is a shirtless man with a hip flask tucked into the waistband of his shorts. I keep trying to explain that this is a place with its own laws.” AnxietyFloridaAntsStrangenessNervousnessSpousesGas StationsHusbandsFire Ants Book:State of Paradise Source: State of Paradise
“In Florida I count cats. I first started counting the cats--a mix of strays and outdoor pets with collars and bells--while walking the dog and soon realized that we are hopelessly surrounded. Cats lounge on driveways and front lawns, crouch like gargoyles on porch railings and fence post, lurk in the bushes and under cars and behind trees, peer out from underneath crawl spaces. The derelict houses in the neighborhood appear to have been overtaken by cats--they crowd the decaying front porches, use the walls as scratching posts--and nearly all the non-derelict houses have what my husband and I refer to as a "stoop cat.” FloridaCatsStray CatsStraysOutdoor CatsStray Animals Book:State of Paradise Source: State of Paradise
“I was raised in the desert and always appreciated the way its landscape gives you a chance to see what's coming. In Florida, dangers don't reveal themselves until it's too late. The alligator lurking in the shallow pond, ready to devour your pet or your child. The snake hidden in the underbrush. The riptide slicing across that postcard-perfect Atlantic. Sinkholes. Encephalitis. Brain-destroying bacteria that flourish in overheated lakes. Quicksand.” DangerIllnessFloridaSnakesAlligatorsQuicksandDangersLandscapesSinkholesRiptides Book:I Hold a Wolf by the Ears: Stories Source: I Hold a Wolf by the Ears: Stories
“A place outside time. This is the phrase I overhear my husband using as he tries to describe Florida to his father over the phone. His father lives in a high-rise condo in New Jersey, and he is concerned that we are still down here. On the news, there is constant talk about Florida’s post-pandemic spiral. Speculation about whether the state is experiencing an ecological and spiritual succession. There is talk about militias creeping out of the swamp. There is talk of vandals. There is talk of literal highway robbery. (Our Cro-Magnon governor denies any of this is happening, even though there are reports that some of these forces are amassing in his name.) For the time being, I can ghostwrite my books and shop specials at the grocery and take my niece to the water park, but no one knows how much longer this version of our world will last. “Sometimes I can’t believe a place like this exists,” my husband says as we speed down a gleaming white limestone road that cuts through a palm forest, or ride an airboat around a swollen lake. Florida has a past, as all places do, but these days everyone is uncertain about its future.” PastTimeFuturePandemicFloridaStrangenessCovid Book:State of Paradise Source: State of Paradise