Kozmik Debriz 1953-2007

Farewell to a master of the universe Mark Robert Wright b. Aug 27, 1953- d. October 30, 2007
Mark's fifth wheel burned up at Stephen Foster Park in May. Here he is the next day with his bed at Ocean Pond. He was sleeping under the stars. Mark didn't look back. He was planning to go north and to refit his diesel truck with a step in and do Clifftop and such. My last email to him was to show him one of his t shirts on YOUtube. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8r-x7BiI1g
Barborville 2005
White Springs 2006


Local Flowers
by Tom T Hall

I have traveled this world over
I have rambled all my days
When my journey's have all ended
Place some flowers on my grave.

Local Flowers, just some Daisies
Wildwood flowers from the hills
Where I will spend my eternal hours
Lay me down with Local Flowers.

Please don't buy those Red Carnations
I don't need the Lilies fair
Just go walkin' on the mountain
Gather while it's blooming there.
Rosemary means that you'll remember

Clover sweet as the love we shared

Mrytle says that you will miss me
Ramblin' Roses say you care.

Let the birds sing from the tree tops
Let the grass grow where it may
No arrangement, no bright ribbons
Just a simple, wild bouquet.

Mark Wright: 1953-2007

My dear friend Mark Wright, "the tie dye guy" passed away October 30, 2007 yesterday in the Osceola National Forest near Ocean Pond. He will be missed by his folk family in Florida, Michigan, and Wisconsin. Mark passed away next to a karst in The Osceola National Forest. It was a very pretty place. I placed a bunch of rosemary and daisies at the spot. He died peacefully, most probably from heart failure.

Something About What Happens When We talk
by Lucinda Williams

If I had my way I'd be in your town
I might not stay but at least I would've been around
Cause there's something about what happens when we talk
Something about what happens when we talk

Does this make sense It doesn't matter anyway
Is it coincidence or was it meant to be
Cause there's something about what happens when we talk
Something about what happens when we talk

Conversation with you was like a drug
It wasn't your face so much as it was your words
Cause there's something about what happens when we talk
Something about what happens when we talk

Well I can't stay round cause I'm going back south
But all I regret now is I never kissed your mouth
Cause there's something about what happens when we talk
Something about what happens when we talk

Cause there's something about what happens when we talk
Something about what happens when we talk

Blue Spring Alligator

Today was just right for a brief afternoon kayak trip on the Wacissa. The water is low and the birds are mostly gone but there are always surprises on this river if you stay quiet and look. This gator was sunning at Blue Spring. I have not seen a gator at the spring before but the lack of human traffic was probably a great opportunity for him to dive deep at the spring and rest on the shore afterwards. This little otter surfaced next to the kayak. The limpkin is eating apple snails. Apple snails I'm told, are invasive but the limpkins snag them and deftly pull the meat out. I hung around the spring looking for ivory bills. Haven't found one yet, but I'm hopeful...
When the leaves fall, the views are much better. I've seen lots of bark stripped trees on this river which look like ivory bill feeding signs.

Mark Fackeldey: 1942-2004: Rare master of autoharp

Three years ago on this date my pal Mark Fackeldey passed away. The Florida Folk Festival lost some of its fun after that. Here he is playing at my camp...probably Grasshopper Sittin on a Sweet Potato Vine, which I often asked him to play. Or maybe Shenandoah Falls, or Velociraptor.... Anyway, it was sweet, buoyant, and mysterious... Mark's playing...

I'll be at the Florida Folk Festival once again this year. I'm MCing three stages, singing with The Morbid Tablenapkin Choir and Doug Gauss at the Harmony Workshop, and doing the Autoharp Workshop along with several other autoharpers. Please stop by. Look for my sign in the campground.... "harpgirl's camp". I'll be in The Miccosukee Land Coop camp. The Festival is November 9-11 at Stephen Foster Memorial State Park in White Springs, Florida.

Lake Munson

This lake has a primeval quality. Kayaking around the cypress trees is just plain awe inspiring. But these photos don't really capture the thrill. You'll just have to visit it by boat yourself.Great blue herons are a frequent subject on my blog. But I never tire of watching them fly. The aerodynamics are thrilling.
Those of you who may know Lake Munson and any of its noted residents, might think upon seeing this structure , "Oh, how lovely for Mr. Martin to have built a Tiki Bar in the middle of the lake . When is cocktail time?" hahaha. It is a bird blind, though. Probably to watch wood storks who nest on the lake in the winter. And it has some names on it but they are probably biologists or ornithologists I dont' know. I only know two, one a bagpiper and flutist and the other brother to a fiddler.
At any rate, I saw one woodstork yesterday but he sailed off as I approached the cypress stand he was perched in. Not like our visitor on The Wacissa who swooped almost on top of our boats one day while Peggy and I were out. When things like that happen I swear the birds are inhabited by my ancestral ghosts. Not every bird seems like an ancestor though, just certain ones...at certain times.

This cormorant looks graceful and supple to me. In reality, their flight is somewhat ungraceful , I think. But they have the most beautiful blue eyes, like someone I would like to know better!
This stand of cypress echoed with a tatting woodpecker as I crossed the lake. I was almost certain it was a pileated from the sound and I was correct... but he flew out of sight after I got enough of an eyeful to be certain he was pileated. Lake Munson has the right kind of environment for ivory bill woodpeckers, though. I might see one there if any actually still fly... sometime in the dim future, don't you think? This lake is rimmed so beautifully with bald cypress and domed cypress. The trees make me feel awe, reverence, and a sense of history. I wish I could tell them apart. Not as old as a bristlecone pine of course, but old and rooted!

Yesterday

I had a free morning yesterday so I decided to go back to the Wacissa for a few hours. I meant to get there at dawn but it was nine am before I actually put in. The river is very low and I had to boost myself over the sand bars in the boat launch channel. Otters were not as plentiful today but I did take some shots of a snacker in Cassidy Spring. There were not a lot of wading birds today, nor did I see any bitterns or little green herons. I have been seeing more alligators than in the summer, which surprises me. Maybe it's because of the water table. On Monday I got up near one sunning himself and he exploded into the water in a shower of muddy silt. He wasn't near enough to cause a problem though. Just a big splash!

The woodpeckers are becoming more plentiful around Blue Spring and I saw several varieties. I am looking again for The IvoryBill and may be going out of town to do so soon. I found pileated woodpeckers, of course. With the water so low however, I can not get back where I like to search around the big spring.

Wacissa Monday

Fancy painted turtle
Low water table