It’s the middle of January around 7:30 a.m. The outside air temperature is 70 degrees and climbing steadily. You’re walking from your kitchen to your lanai with a cup of coffee in one hand and the daily newspaper in the other. A pair of sandhill cranes is in your back yard pecking away at the grass, enjoying their breakfast. An alligator is soaking up the delicious rays of sun on the bank of a lake not more than a hundred feet from your property. The branches of your palm trees are gently swaying to and fro caressed by a light, refreshing breeze. The setting is heavenly and you know you’re in Florida.
Up north it’s a different story. From Idaho all the way to Maine, the temperature is 30 degrees and dropping rapidly. Snow is falling at the rate of 5 inches per hour and the wind is howling away at 43 miles per hour. It’s a category 5 blizzard. Snowplows and salting crews are ready for action. Schools and businesses are closed, and a state of emergency has been declared by 28 states. Not surprisingly, all airline flights are cancelled. If you live in any of those states, you wish you were in Florida.
By 8:45 the temperature is nudging 80 degrees and you and three of your friends have a tee time of 9:25. Others are already having fun on the tennis courts or enjoying pickleball. Bocce and shuffleboard tournaments are in progress. Horseshoes, anyone? By 10:15, you and your golf mates are having the round of your lives. Your drives have been straight and long, and you’ve been sinking 8-to 10-foot putts with regularity. You’re in Florida for sure.
Two days later the North has finally cleared the snow, both on the highways and the runways. Schools and businesses have reopened. Airlines are resuming their normal schedules. Streets and parking lots have been plowed. In the parking lot of a large shopping mall in Minnesota, mounds of plowed snow reach as high as 15 feet. Some youngsters got creative and dug a system of tunnels in one of the larger piles. They posted a sign at the entrance which read, “Carlsbad Caverns. Keep out!” Such humor. Those kids are definitely not in Florida. You’re kayaking on the Caloosahatchee River. Your fishing line is dangling in Lake Okeechobee. You’re being whisked around the Everglades on an airboat tour.
You’re weeding your flower garden and you come upon a 2-foot-long snake. It’s a colorful critter with bands of red, yellow, and black. The red and yellow bands are together so you know it’s a coral snake. Rather than retrieving your spade from your garage, you decide to call animal control and, within the hour, the reptile has been safely relocated. You’ve done your good deed for the day and, without a doubt, you’re in the Sunshine State.
It’s the first weekend of November and you’re watching the U.S. Navy’s Blue Angels performing their homecoming airshow in Pensacola. The crowd is thrilled. After the show, you walk up to the flight line and obtain the autographs of all six pilots, and now you have the souvenir of a lifetime. It’s the western end of the Florida panhandle.
So, if the sunsets are beautiful, the beaches are snowy-white, or the wind is howling at 140 miles per hour with tons of rain, chances are you’re somewhere in Florida. If you’re enjoying the best Key lime pie in the world in Islamorada Key, you’re 64 miles south of Miami and 83 miles north of Key West. That’s the sovereign state of Florida, home to the fountain of youth and land of paradise.
