Jan. 06, 2004 - 16:48 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Another Time

The weather here being below zero in the night and sometimes early in the morning my thoughts and memories go south. There was a time when I was almost thirty years old when we made a move to a place far away. A place I could dip my toes in sea water for the first time, get scared by Fiddler crabs and a host of other wonderful experiences, such as seeing oranges growing on trees and bamboo growing.

A bit south down Tampa Bay from Oldsmar, Florida where we lived stretched the Courtney Campbell Causeway. I suppose a good part of it was done by man as straight lines are not much in nature I think. It was the shortest route from Tampa to Clearwater and access to St. Petersburg. In the center of the causeway was a ribbon of asphalt which carried traffic back and forth, its excuse for being there.

But there is more to it than that, on each side of it was a pleasant stretch of sand having rain shelters over picnic tables and benches placed periodically across the causeway. We must have made the scene at the right time of all our lives because we could take adantage of that blissful stretch of sand in the bay. Our kids were the right age to enjoy the time there.

Whether it was after my work or on a weekend we would take along a good picnic meal and plenty of drinks and towels aplenty and head for the outdoors. The slope into the water was gradual enough that our non-swimmers could muck about in the shallow water or stay aground and build structures of fantasy in the sand.

Our oldest and I would go out deep enough to swim for a time, come back toward shore and hassle the little ones some. On the whole activity was sporadic and pretty much individual. Except when Heather would call us in to eat and with full tummys loll in the shade for awhile, keeping Heather company with idle conversation.

I usually took my fishing gear along with me and managed once in a while to wet my line but did little more than pass the time in happy activity. Fishing was better up by the power plant in Oldsmar. Some time later the boys had poles and would fish with about the same luck I had but we had a good time I think.

From those trips onto the causeway mysteries would happen sometimes. Once I remember we hadn't been out for about two weeks and couldn't figure what made that awful smell in the car. Finally I found some putrid sea life tucked under the car seat. None of the kids would own up to it and they took after me as pack rats in training. I smoked and steamed out the ears about that and although I would have to shovel and sweep sand out of the car and pick up shells there were no bits of live organisms stowed away in the car after that one time.

It would be hot in the middle of the day, but we were pretty well acclimated by then and the shade from the shelters made it bearable for Heather and the rest of us. When the kids were that age Heather stayed ashore and mended socks or did a little sewing project or another. But it was so mild and nice there, a breeze now and then with the smell of things growing seasoning the air. I think that we always stayed and watched the sunset for awhile and then shooed the kids into the car and headed home.

It was early on that I found out that I did like seafood, oysters and all. What I didn't like in Denver was the stale seafood and there was that horrible salt cod in a box. Also I liked the food there in Florida, grits were new to me among other things but soon learned to eat them with gusto with soft fried eggs on top with butter mixed in, boiled peanuts and hush puppies too. I was in a place of paradise, most folks had avocado trees and when they were ripe they would give us all the avocados we could eat, citrus was cheap and we enjoyed all varieties, generous folk would give me hibiscus cuttings and starts for other plants.

Florida was a whole new world to this Colorado born and raised boy and once I was acclimated to the heat I enjoyed every minute of it. I heard a definition of what a cracker is once. It is a person whose father and grandfather were crackers too. I didn't qualify for that term, but found there was an innate courtesy and hospitality in the native Floridians that exceeded that of the folks in Colorado. Hard working folk, but laid back and easy going, they were.

Eventually we had to leave Florida behind, Lowry Park, Hillsborough State Park, Clearwater Beach and those lovely lakes we used to go to, but none of us has left the grand memories behind. It was another time, Another Clime . . . . . . . . .

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