We arrived at Paynes Prairie Preserve State Park on March 18th and had another difficult time squeezing into our campsite but at least we didn’t have to call in a Ranger. On the way there we noticed signage for the Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings home, the Nobel Prize winning author of The Yearling. Edda Ross had told us it was in the area and Chris was anxious to visit it as she had seen the movie, Cross Creek, which told the story of Rawlings’ life in the back waters town of the same name. The home is part of the Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings Historic State Park, a portion of which contains a sizeable parking lot and boat ramp area. The house is surrounded by dense forest that has grown over the orange groves that originally occupied the property and gave her and her husband a meager income while she began her novel writing career in 1928.
A path through what used to be orange groves across the street from the house.
The park maintains the original home, garden, barn and tenant house, and several trails leading through the overgrown orange groves. Ducks and chickens freely roamed the premises and a 1930s attired ranger guided us through the house, locking the doors behind us as we entered the next set of rooms. A majority of the furnishings were original thanks to the foresight of her second husband, Norton Baskin. Upon her death in 1953 he put her belongings in storage anticipating a future need and they were put back into use, right down to the typewriter, when the house became a part of the Florida State Park system.
Hats, brooms and an ironing board she used in a breezeway of the house.
The exhibit details were well done right down to her cookbook, rolling pin and fan.
Jay with a corn husk broom in the kitchen.
While driving home Chris found a tick on her pants leg – the first since we’d arrived in Florida. The bad news was that we had to watch for them and check our clothes after forays into the woods. The good news was that spring was finally on its way.
A trip to the Visitor Center at Paynes Prairie Preserve provided us with a lay of the land and a volunteer pelted us with information about the park and other useful information about the area in general; like where to do our laundry and the bat houses on the University of Florida campus. The park encompasses a 21,000 acre savannah and is home to wild horses, bison, cattle, alligators and over 270 species of birds. During the 1870s excessive rains and a drainage blockage caused a lake to form and steamboats plied its waters transporting goods, such as oranges, and passengers from one side to the other. Lake Alachua, as it was known, drained in 1886. Evidently this cycle has occurred many times over the eons.
We only hiked a few trails but each passed through terrain so different from the others that one wouldn’t think they were part of the same landscape. Trails near the Visitor Center coursed through open forest that abruptly ceased, almost in a straight line, where it met the low lying prairie which stretched so far before us that the trees on the other side appeared to be nothing more than a green pencil line on the horizon. We climbed a three story tower with views of the tawny colored plain at ever increasing heights and marveled at its breadth.
It seemed like we were in Kansas rather than Florida the area was so flat and grassy.
The trees stopped in an abrupt straight line at the prairie’s edge.
The La Chua trail, on the north side of the prairie, was completely different. It began with a long, curving deck that bordered a low-lying pond filled with Penny Wort, egret, turtles and alligators, which connected to a raised, grassy trail suitable for use by a full-size motorized vehicle. To either side were watery environs completely opposite in appearance. The right side was filled with yucky, brown, stagnant pools of water and just as yucky brown, plant remnants struggling to stay upright in them before the heavy spring rains beat them into a murky grave. The near left side boasted a waterway about 50 feet in width, the far bank populated by the remaining coppery vestiges of abundant, tall grasses, with alligators clustered in small, open pockets. Vast areas of the water were covered by the glossy, emerald leaves of Penny Wort creating artificial undulations in the banks so that the water appeared to swing one way then the other in a contrasting blue ribbon. Along the way we encountered dozens of 10-20 foot alligators, (some less than 20 feet from us), glossy and white ibis, American Bittern, water snakes, a water rat common to the prairie and even a big, fat bunny.
Huge masses of penny wort encroach on the waterway.
A view from the platform at the end of the La Chua trail.
Chris once again toted the camera gear along, on this brilliantly cloudless day, and was greatly rewarded for the effort. Not normally a photographer of wildlife she couldn’t resist capturing close-ups of the uncomfortably close alligators and the snakes that Jay so eagerly sought. She even surprised herself at the quality of some of the photos.
This young gator was hard to see amongst the greenery.
An American Bittern stalking prey.
Throughout the afternoon we trekked the three mile round trip encountering a variety of people who either loved the experience and were dressed appropriately with sturdy footwear, toted cameras and binoculars, and shared with us where they’d seen a snake or some other interesting critter. Others walked a short distance in their stylish Capri pants and sandals, learned that there were snakes and alligators ahead and immediately made a u-turn back to the parking lot. We were baffled by such visitors and wondered why they bothered to come out at all.
This tiny 18 inch long snake stopped a full-grown man in his tracks.
He was so afraid of being bitten he did not finish walking the trail despite our reassurances to the contrary.
We hated to leave this beautiful wildlife wonderland just as the light was getting to that perfect angle for photography but on the road in, three signs stated that the park closed at 6:30 so we figured they were serious.
Chris and Jay laden with photo gear at the end of the day.
We had heard that the Bolen Bluff Trail, that entered the park from the west, was the best place to view the horses and buffalo. It also turned out to be the least populated of the three we walked, both of people and creatures, but we didn’t mind having it all to ourselves. Despite obvious signs of our hoofed friends in the way of prints and “pies” along the trail, it wasn’t until we got to the 15 foot high observation deck that we actually saw a mare and her filly lazily munching their way toward the far side of the plain. Chris set up the camera and fired off a few shots, but even with the long lens they were a bit too far away.
The only two horses we saw this day.
