Ralph Windsor Woodmansee 1929-2018

CHILDHOOD

Ralph Windsor Woodmansee (Woody) was born on New Year’s Day 1929 in Cincinnati Ohio to parents Helen Margaret Asbury and Ralph Burdsal Woodmansee.  He was the middle child between Robert (Bob) and Margaret (Peggy Ann).  He and his family left Ohio to live in north Georgia for a few years, but would eventually end up in Miami Florida.  They originally lived on Tiger Tail Avenue in the City of Miami, but the family would move to “the middle of nowhere” and build a house on the block of Red Road and 81^st Street.  His father Ralph (most knew him as Mike) was an electrician.  His mother, Helen was a homemaker and volunteered for the Girl Scouts, later in life she would work for the Girl Scouts of America Miami office. 

SIBLINGS

Woody’s brother Bob became a marine biologist, and he fondly remembered helping Bob on a research project involving netting zooplankton near Chicken Key in Biscayne Bay, this research was published by Bob later.  Bob would later move away to teach in Texas, but Woody kept in touch with him.  Woody was very close to his sister Peggy, who was a homemaker and renowned in the family for her cooking skills.  Peggy, her husband Richard Kosel (who was Woody’s best man at his wedding), and three boys lived stayed in the Miami area till adulthood.

SCHOOL LIFE AND MILITARY

Ralph attended Ponce De Leon High School in Coral Gables , where most of his friends called him Sonny.  In high school and at University he was known as an avid dancer.  He met lifelong friend Vera Fascell.  He managed to get a scholarship to the Univ. of Miami FL by teaching himself to “twirl a broomstick handle”, and became one of the school band’s drum majors, and led them in many an Orange bowl parade.  While at UM, Sonny was also a member of the Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity, where he kept lifelong friend Earl Welbaum.  While attending UM, the Korean Conflict began, and Ralph elected to enter the U.S. Air force rather than being drafted while finishing his degree.

Ralph served in Amarillo, TX and U.S. Territory Guam while in the U.S. Air Force, and left the military with the rank of Draft Sergeant.  He then completed a Bachelor Degree in Art with a minor in Philosophy at UM.    At some point (likely while in the Air Force), the moniker Sonny became Woody, a favored nickname that he kept for the rest of his life. 

JO

In September 1957 Woody’s friend Vera would introduce him to her friend and Eastern Airlines stewardess “Jo” Draper.  Woody and Jo would fall in love with each other, and married at Woody’s church Riviera Presbyterian on April 5, 1958.  Jo became homemaker, and eventually a registered nurse.  They stayed in Woody’s mother Helen’s house for seven years saving money to put a down payment on a house.  Jo was pregnant with their first child Michael while working on her Biology degree at the Univ. of Miami, and he was born in 1962.  He was followed by son Marc in 1963.  In 1965, while Jo was pregnant with Helen, the family moved into their newly built home next door.  The home was built by brothers Joseph and Austin Porfiri, the latter whom was husband of Woody’s friend Vera.  Woody helped design the house; he previously created a floorplan while in the Air Force.  The plan included a unique four way chimney which included three fire places and a bbq on the outside patio.  Jo and Woody had two more children, Jolynne in 1967, and finally Steven in 1971.  Family was always a focus for both Jo and Woody during their 60 year marriage.  Woody loved and cherished Jo, who took care of him during his final years.

BOXERS

Woody had a passion for dogs, especially boxers.  He and Jo would breed and show award winning pets early on in their marriage.  He’d take a break from having puppies while he and Jo’s hands were filled with kids, but would always keep boxers as pets for the remainder of his days.  Draper, Picot, Mocha, Teera, Brandy, Precious 1 and Precious 2 were some of his canine friends.

FAMILY and FATHERHOOD

Woody always loved to camp.  Whether it was a weekend getaway, or a lavishly long trip, Woody and Jo would take their children on lots of travel vacations.  Favorite Florida locations were Key Largo’s America Outdoors (now defunct), Lykes Brothers Fisheating Creek, Jonathan Dickinson State Park, and Fort Wilderness at Walt Disney World.  Memorable big vacations were the “Out West Trip” where Woody and Jo traveled through National Parks all the way to California dragging a trailer and all five kids.   Another fantastic trip involved traveling up the east coast to Canada, visiting historic sites in major cities along the way.  Woody finally organized a trip to visit the great art museums in Europe, bringing wife Jo and son Steve to see works by Impressionists, Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and many more.  He would return to Europe with daughter Helen and Art students from Gulliver Prep HS; and again with wife Jo to visit and see the Dutch masters in Amsterdam. 

Woody was active at Riviera Presbyterian Church, where his mother Helen was a charter member.  Church was regularly attended on Sundays and Wednesday evenings by all family members, and it was an important part of family life. 

Woody and Jo also encouraged Scouting to all their children.  Woody was a den father in Cub Scouts, while Jo lead a Girl Scout troop for both of her daughters.  Both Mike and Marc would become Eagle Scouts at early ages.

Woody was proud of all of his children.

WORK

Upon graduating, Woody became employed by Dade County Public Schools.  He first taught at Miami Springs Junior High School in 1957, but would eventually leave and help open the newly built Riviera Junior High School, a year or two later the Riviera’s Principal grabbed Woody and two other outstanding teachers to open the newly built Coral Park Senior High School on Coral Way.  Woody taught all forms of Art, including but not limited to: Commercial Art, Painting, Sculpting and Ceramics.  He also regularly taught Summer School, and at nights in the Adult Education Program.  Woody taught in the public school system for 26 years before retiring in 1984.  Upon retiring, he began teaching Art at Gulliver Preparatory High School in East Kendall.  He expanded their Art program, and stayed there for seven years.  While teaching there, his son Steve attended.  Woody finally retired for good in 1992. 

Woody greatly impacted many of his students.  Former students of Woody, upon hearing his unusual last name, have questioned Woody’s children; “Are you related to Mr. Woodmansee the Art Teacher?”  Upon confirmation they more often than not tell a story of how important and influential he was to them at that trying time of their lives.   A few of his students took up art and/or teaching as careers. 

ART

Woody always had a passion for Art.  He was dexterously skilled, creative, and determined.  Some of his artistic skills reflected by his portfolio of work include:  Ceramics, Painting (Acrylics mostly), Drawing, Lettering, Sculpture (several media), Macramé, Stained Glass, and more.  When the blight in the 1970’s killed most of the Coconut Trees, he went around the neighborhood gathering discarded tree trunks to carve into Tiki heads, which are displayed around the house.  He even included his four eldest children (Steven was too young), and taught them how to carve their own tiki head with hammer and chisel.  When asked what was his favorite medium, Woody always answered painting.  He was especially influenced by impressionistic style in particular the landscape paintings of A.E. “Bean” Backus.  His art was deeply personal, and although he would share it with family, he never sold any pieces.  His home contains the majority of his collection.

GARDEN & YARD

Woody was passionate about where he lived, and he displayed his and other people’s art throughout the home, along with family photos, but he especially loved to garden, build, and work in his yard. 

When the foundation was being poured for the home, he had previously dug out a small swimming pool complete with a waterfall using local rock combined with excess concrete from the slab.  This pool would later be converted to a fish pond when a larger swimming pool was installed.  He helped design a Chickee hut with a raised floor in the backyard that had a chicken coop underneath.  Also in the backyard, Woody built a large concrete statue influenced by primitive Pacific Island Art.  Later, he would build and complete a sunken garden with a small pond next to the patio and pool.  This would be caged and turned into a bird aviary, where he would raise parakeets. 

Woody saw how South Miami was changing, and how the pines and palmettos were disappearing or dying.   In the 1970s he went to the one and only local native plant nursery in Islamorada owned by Donna and Sandy Sprunt to purchase saw palmettos to relocate in his yard.  He also planted oaks and other native trees.  Along with the natives, he was especially fond of ornamentals such as Bromeliads, Crotons, and Orchids.  Staghorn ferns were placed in some of the oaks as well.  Overtime the lawn became reduced until it finally disappeared in the early 1990’s. 

Woody’s home was part of a Miami-Dade County and Florida Power and Light study to gauge energy savings in neighborhoods with lots of tree canopy cover.  It is recognized in the South Miami neighborhood as an ideal energy saving landscape.  Large trees shade the home reducing cooling costs, and maintenance is kept at a minimum with no lawn.

Woody loved working in his yard.  He continued to dig holes and plant shrubs up until his early to mid 80’s.  Woody departed in the early morning on October 27, 2018.

Written by Steven W. Woodmansee, October 29, 2018

Meat Manifesto

I am an omnivore.  I do enjoy all sorts of foods, and try and eat conscientiously.  What does that mean?  To me it means being aware of where the food comes from (the closer the better) correlated with how it is raised (organic? pasture raised? sustainably produced? happy critters?) with an attempt to mostly eat veggies (thank you Michael Pollan).  I do think about becoming a vegetarian, (probably not a vegan though), and I do consume less meat than I used to.

Most of us don't really understand what it means to eat a living animal that walks on the ground.  Fishing is perhaps the closest we get to killing, cleaning, and preparing a food stuff, and fewer of us are doing that these days.  Plus our oceans are so very over harvested that I decided to fish less and less these past years.  But how many of us have killed and cleaned a chicken?  Something that most of the world eats (one figure I read online was 97,000 chickens a minute).  I did this a couple years ago when I culled all the roosters out of my flock.  Believe me, they were annoying, and I didn't want to piss off my neighbors any further as they crowed constantly (yes even at night).  They kind of beat up the hens too.  So taking their lives wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be.  It certainly wasn't pleasant, but it was somewhat rewarding too.  A rite of passage if you will.

I raised these birds since they arrived at my doorstep newly hatched.  Fed them, provided them green grass to eat, play and scratch on, and learned a great deal about them if not from them.  Hey, I've eaten chicken in its various forms all my life, and it was about time I got close and personal and truly understood what it means to eat chicken.  Animals die to feed us plain and simple.  Remember that these animals evolved with humans with that purpose for thousands of years, their qualities (including deliciousness) are a result of selective breeding over time.

Anyway, chickens are well suited and adapted to living with humans who care for them (see my previous blog on raising chickens).   So I grabbed them at night, and cut their heads off, letting the blood spurt out onto a fire I made.  I know, it sounds creepy, but I didn't want a bloody mess for my dog to go nuts after or worse, attract rats.  Then I boiled a big pot of water, and began the dirty job of plucking feathers (needless to say, the odor was foul, nyuck, nyuck, nyuck).  Two hours later, I had three small roosters plucked, resembling more closely to what we purchase at the store.  I then went to task eviscerating them, and cleaning out their insides, being careful not to pierce their oil gland and gall bladder.  It was strange to hold a warm raw chicken and know that it was okay to eat.  I then spatchcocked the meat, and froze it.  Perhaps with practice, I'd get better at it.  I barbecued them with some friends over the Christmas holidays.

Now these roosters were bantams (small chickens).  I had a Dominique, and two English game cocks both being heirloom chicken breeds.  Dominiques (or Dominikers as my mother calls them), a U.S. breed, were once the most popular breed in America.  They were a utilitarian breed, being reliable egg layers and a good meat breed, but not the best of either category.  By the 1970's the breed was close to extinction in the U.S., reduced to only a few flocks.  Careful management by concerned poultry aficionados brought them back to suitable numbers, and can now be purchased at many hatcheries across the country.  Eating these types of chickens is a different experience from the "veal chicken" we get at the grocery store.  Both the breed type and the healthy lifestyle contribute to the different eating experience.  The flesh is chewy, and the breast meat  is about 1/4 to 1/3 the size of the steroid monsters we are accustomed to.  But the flavor was intensely rich and delicious.

So what if the whole world were to go vegetarian, or perhaps vegan?  What would happen to all the breeds of edible livestock.  Would we envision some Vonnegut-like scenario where people only see them in zoos?  Would all the different breeds go extinct?  Or, perhaps some other scenario.  Would they run rampant and outcompete our existing indigenous fauna, causing their extinction? Is it possible that these species are successful biologically because they are delicious, and are an important partner to our civilization?  I say yes.  Pigs, cows, chickens, goats, sheep, and many more would not be as successful spreading their genes around the planet if it weren't for people.

Even still, we need to treat farm animals like the marvelous creatures they are.  Raise them on healthy farms that are ecologically sustainable, provide them with all the resources that make them excel at what they are, allow them to live a sufficient life period, and respectfully take their lives when it comes time to harvest them.  I wouldn't expect everyone to raise their meat at their own homes (although you'd be surprised how easy it is to raise chickens and rabbits in a suburban setting), and lucky for us conscientious consumers we can purchase sustainable, humanely raised meat products.  Click here for more info.

Panhandle Ramble

Post Office Bay, North of Sumatra

Sumatra. For most of us, it is the best damned coffee from Starbucks. For those of us who are geographically inclined, it evokes images of a smoky coffee filled rapidly disappearing tropical Indonesian rain forest once filled with tigers and orangutans. For Florida plant enthusiasts, it is also well known for its spectacular prairies and bogs containing a carnivorous oddity. Pitcher plants.

Florida's Sumatra is located in the panhandle west of Tallahassee. It is surrounded by Appalachicola National Forest, an immense expanse of pine dominated ecosystems that abuts the Appalichicola River which is fed by the southern foot hills of the Appalachian Mountains. That region is a hub for botanical endemism and biodiversity, and contains a unique flora, but I digress...

My first exposure to Sumatra happened several years ago during a wonderful program on carnivorous plants presented at the monthly meeting of the Dade Chapter of the Florida Native Plant Society. Clyde Bramblett was the speaker, an old time plant enthusiast with a penchant for all plants carnivorous. His fascination with these unusual plants translated well by his many photographs and evident passion. Florida is lucky to be one of the centers of diversity for carnivorous flora. After his talk, I was determined to visit this region someday and witness the beautiful meat eating plants in person. This lifetime bucket list goal came to fruition during the Thirtieth Annual Florida Native Plant Society (FNPS) Conference which was held in Tallahassee Mid-May of this year.

Early in the morning a group of twenty or so FNPS field trip participants congregated and set forth down some two lane highways traveling through the National Forest. Our primary leader, Guy, was a lean man in his early sixties I'd guess. Throughout the field trip, he bequeathed his plant expertise with generosity and assurance, which this hobo botanist very much appreciated. Some plants I recognized, and many were familiar cousins of species found in my realm 400 miles away, but there was a treasure trove of new never before seen species. Our secondary leader, Virginia, a photographer, to each of us dealt out a lovely potential list of plants in booklet form with a personal photo of a pitcher plant prairie on the cover. I scanned through it immediately, and carefully set it aside to peruse later.

During the drive, my mouth salivated, and my hands twitched at the wheel desiring to pull over as clumps of pitcher plants and other cool herbs were speedily passed by. Fortunately, after a relatively brief drive that took forever, our caravan reconvened at our first stop; Post Office Bay. Members piled out of their carpooled vehicles, got all there gear, and gathered around Guy to hear about the natural history of the area. It wasn't before long that cameras were flashing, and people were huddling about the many wildflowers and herbs. We were all excited, awe struck, and chomping at the bit to walk amidst the pitcher plants. (Part 1 of 2, Panhandle Ramble)

Urban Meadows

No, not a country singer, but a concept in landscaping. Actually, not really landscaping, as very little action is needed for those who have lawns, in fact no action is needed.
Modern lawns use way too many resources. I listen to the radio, and hear countless commercials about "So-in-so's weed and feed" product to be spread across hundreds of thousands of acres of green field, whose ultimate purpose is not quite certain. Fertilizers, herbicides, and pesticides used in the landscape reduce the overall fitness of the existing landscape (killing beneficial insects, and artificially pushing our plants growth like some sort of steroidal hormone). In addition, what isn't absorbed by the plants end up in our water supply, and/or oceans, rivers and lakes, threatening ourselves as well as existing ecosystems that we depend on. They also add to the carbon footprint (and are expensive to boot!). Modern lawns also require inordinate amounts of water, often drinking water, that we inundate with impunity during dry seasons, threatening the water supply we all depend on to sustain our own lives. So why are lawns so entrenched in our culture?
I have a few theories, visually, they provided a stylistic monochromatic scheme, sometimes pleasurable to our eyes. Lawns represent status dating back to European aristocracies, such as those vast fields surrounding Versailles. People who can afford to waste resources on redundant things appear to be "well off". Lawns also sustain the deeply intrinsic human behavioral need to manipulate one's environment. Regardless, it is time to grow up, and stop worrying about having a monoculture of one turf species. It is stupid and wasteful. Instead, embrace a new pastoral view of the world, and convert your lawn to an Urban Meadow.
Step 1: stop watering your lawn.
Step 2: stop using fertilizers, pesticides, and herbicides on your lawn.
Step 3: Pop open a beer, you are done. You are on your way to having an urban meadow.
Over time, weeds (both native and exotic) will fill in the spaces of your former lawn where it is doing poorly. These weeds are extremely beneficial to insects, who visit the flowers, or even use them as host plants (I counted over 36 butterfly species which use the lawn weeds in my yard). Many of these insects, such as wasps, are predatory on pest insects elsewhere in your yard. Reduce the frequency of mowing, as it is costly, and time consuming. You will notice an abundance of life in your new urban meadow. Yes it will appear brown during droughts, but you will also notice a great many new wildflowers.
Final Step: Educate your neighbors. Choose an opportune time such as: while they are mowing their yard...paying the yard man another fifty bucks...dumping an inordinate amount of chemicals on their grass.
We will all benefit from this approach to lawncare, and it requires nothing but to merely step away.

Egg-zactly

Well, I alluded to some of the reasons for chickens in part one of this series. After having a flock for a year and a half now, I have learned much, and really do appreciate this species. They are much more entertaining than I thought they would be, they run around the yard, kind of stick to one small area, and cluck and cackle pleasantly. They have more personality than I thought too. A couple of my hens want to come in the house and "check things out". They are more pets at this stage than domesticated animals, and a part of my "household". Think about all the other pets people have, dogs, cats, fish, birds, turtles, etc. The noble chicken provides us sustenance, whereas none of the common pets do. They grant us a gift, almost daily, perfectly gift wrapped, and some breeds even color them for us.

It really is a no brainer. If each household had a couple of hens, all that carbon footprint and pollution from factory farms, transportation, not to mention the risk of disease from "old" eggs we buy at the market. Encourage your municipal and county councils/commissions to change many of the outdated laws that disallow having hens, and become one of the many backyard chicken owners.

Coop d'etat

Chickens don't need a lot of space. Bantams even less, figure on 2 square feet per hen. They also aren't too choosy where they live. Lots has been published on this, so I'll just give the basics.

It is best to have a building you will be happy with. The best option is one you can move around the yard with. It should look nice, or your neighbors may narc on you. There are structures you can purchase online, but you better be ready to dole out some cash, most start at five hundred bucks.

Permanent structures have their benefits. They can be hidden from view. Well built ones are storm resistant too. I live in the subtropics, so air circulation is a must. It is mostly hardware cloth combined with tilt windows that cover the mesh at the topside of the coop. I guess a picture is worth a thousands words so see above. It is important that you can get in and out of it, 'cause you'll need to grab eggs daily (or chickens when you are hungry). Of course you could build a fancy draw door and grab them from the outside. You will also need to clean it on occasion, but the tropical weather in my hood makes decomposition quick and easy, and cleaning is kept to a minimum. I have no odor from my coop. Chickens roost near the rafters, and I have a shelf to collect their droppings, which I use as fertilizer for my plants. Opposite their perch is another shelf where I keep the nest boxes (that's where they lay the eggs). I have a big door in the front making it easy to access. I also put in a chicken run door, and built a simple run for them to play in during the day. Some days, I let them roam the yard. My yard is fenced with chain link, but the chickens don't go very far. They visit less than a quarter of my 10,000 sq feet. At night, they magically go inside. Be sure to lock them up at night, or you might find a possum got in and ate your beauties. So why chickens? (part 2 of 3)

Flock You

As per usual, our society often does silly things. We have allowed ourselves to lose more of our constitutional rights, many of which were done with open arms and closed minds. Specifically, I am refering to the prohibition of backyard poultry. Don't get me wrong, roosters suck. They crow at all times of the day, and are extremely noisy. They do have a lot of personality however, and are no worse than many of the parrots that are legally kept as pets. Hens, however, are a completely different story.

It is amazing just how easy it is to raise chickens in an urban or suburban setting. Unlike rural areas, urban settings have fewer wild predators. The romantic notion of country life for a chicken is a myth. Country life for a chicken aint easy, they don't just taste good to humans. Foxes, racoons, possums, hawks, and owls represent some of the common predators down here. In the city, some of the above can be witnessed, but usually in lower numbers. Rats can become a problem however, and it is essential that thier coop is secure at night.

Set up in the yard is easy, and more on that next time.

(Part 1 of 3)

Paper, Plastic, or "green" bag

Recently, there has been discussion about these supposedly "green" shopping bags that are appearing at every store across the nation. They consist of recycled plastic converted to a "reusable" cloth-like bag. Now the experts are saying that they aren't exactly helping out with waste reduction. I am not surprised. I haven't really bought into this whole not using free bags conveniently supplied by our shopping venues. I will say that it is annoying when the bag person uses a single plastic bag for one item, so that at the end of the grocery shopping I have way too many plastic bags to make useful. I usually send them on the wild goose chase after the once ubiquitous paper bags (now rarely used), which are local for folks in my area (from Florida & Georgia paper mills). Paper bags often contain recycled products, and are renewable. However, they are rare at the grocery store today, as for some reason people prefer the less useful, plastic bags.

Growing up with frugal parents (especially my father), we always re-used all the bags, but especially the paper bags (yes there was a time when there were no plastic bags). I would use them as book covers, for covering parcels before mailing, blotting oil from homemade fried fish or doughnuts, and of course as garbage bags. My father never bought garbage bags (he was the primary shopper in my family). Why would he, when the grocery store would give them to us at no extra charge. My father was an environmentalist without even knowing it, being frugal (a nice way of saying cheap), and I look upon his frugality with admiration.

But alas today, the green movement pays little attention to the three R's, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. I always laugh to myself when I see a customer who fills their "green bag" with a package of costly garbage bags; why buy something whose sole purpose is to be thrown away?

Reduce: This is a basic principle, reducing is easier than you think. Stop buying pre-packaged garbage bags. Use plastic bags to hold your purchased goods sparingly. Don't buy recycled "green" bags, which come all the way from China in most cases, and then you have the whole carbon footprint issue (how much fuel did it take for the product to reach me?). These solutions at worse cost no money and usually save you money. You won't be able to advertise as well to your fellow shoppers how "green" you are though. Don't be a sucker, the real green movement should focus on reduction, not consumerism.

Reuse: Why not reuse the original plastic bags, better yet, switch back to paper. Paper bags coming from farmed trees (and recycled paper) are a renewable resource, whereas plastic is a petroleum based product. It isn't any more inconvenient to bring in your paper bags and reuse them when shopping, than these new "green" bags. Use these paper bags also for garbage bags, gift wrap, and the other uses described above. Leftover plastic grocery bags can be used for wet garbage. Believe it or not they also make a great fire starter in wet conditions (like when camping); I have been told that they are used for this purpose by indigenous people in the rain forest. The reuse principle should be utilized as best as possible for all items which are normally tossed out.

Recycle: This is the last step, and if you are good, won't be needed. If you have too many bags, you are shopping inefficiently. But the plastic bags can accumulate, and perhaps your space at home is limited. Most grocery stores today have containers for recycling excessive paper and plastic bags.

Lost in my train of thought

This'll be a quickie. Four miles later, I make to my turn. The tracks continue onward, but I need to make a right down along the canal bank. Canals too are great places to find nature. Not as good a the wild stream or river perhaps, but plants persist, as is the gist of these articles. Within the narrow banks reside many submerged & emergent aquatics, likely planted, but who knows. I pass duck potato (Sagittaria lancifolia), Pickerel weed (Pontederia cordata), Cattails (Typha domingensis), the garlicky smelling algae Chara and some nasty weeds not indigineous to the area, Hydrilla verticillata and a new species of Rotala, probably brought in from the aquarium trade.

Occasionally, although not today, a manatee pokes its head above the water's surface. No obnoxious jet skiers today, who for some reason like to go back and forth along the canal on their mouthy meaningless machines. They aren't nearly as interesting or romantic as the trains which infrequently rattle on down.

My street is comin' up. Ice cold water and man's best friend await. What an adventure it is to live here. No it isn't shangra la, but it is fine, and unlike anywhere else in the world. It is the flavors that keep me here, and the longing to protect what's left. (Railroad 5 of 5)

An Altaring Experience

My community contains many underbellies unbeknown'st to the public at large. Immigrants brought many of their customs with them, one of which is publicly frowned upon by the seeming majority of their contemporaries. I wonder about this though as all around the city in the Latino communities are Botanicas, stores convenient to Santeria's practitioners. Santeria, is a religion with deep roots from Africa, and many of the deities are disguised as catholic saints.

One may enter one of these Botanicas, and purchase items necessary for religious practices. Behind the counter usually is someone dressed in all white, this all white garb is reserved for a priest or priestess who is well versed in the Santeria practices. Inside the glass counter are often jewelry to protect from the "evil eye", candles, incense, figurines, tarot cards, and other important religious artifacts. On the shelves and behind the counter or elsewhere in the store are herbs, books, cauldrons and potions, each one has its own special use. Convenient for the times, one can purchase an aerosol can of "evil away" potion, and there is one for "money", and of course, several "love potions". Just spray them in places of need, and "watch them work". Amongst it all are plenty of statues of various saints each representing thier own power. Some botanicas have a special section in the back where they harbor animals to be used for sacrifice. One may purchase pigeons, doves, rabbits, turtles, goats, and of course, chickens.

Apparently, railroads are important places for these sacrifices, and commune strong magic. A major deity is Chango' (or Shango). From what I have been told by a friend who is an ethnobotanist, he is strongly associated with iron, machines, and industrial works (hence the above artistic rendering of the guy grabbing hold of lightening). Crossroads between iron and asphalt are apparently popular places to request blessings from him.

This is most evident, as (and I kid you not) hundreds of chicken corpses (of varying degrees of decomposition) litter these tracks. Now remember, this is not in the boondocks of some remote place. This is in the middle of suburbia, a Starbucks is a block away. I happen upon an altar that contained several religious artifacts. There is a sculpted head made of concrete with cowry shells for eyes, nose, and mouth. A wooden hatchet, intricately decorated. Coins litter the ground. A few sacrificed animals, the ubiquitous chicken, and an unusual turtle with a candle sticking out of its shell. A long knife with a homemade handle in the center of it all. Not being a Santeria practioner, I have no idea what this means, and it fascinates me. I never think of myself a being superstitious, but today I will be respectful of other people's religious beliefs, so I don't disturb this spot.

Home is not far now, despite seemingly having entered another country, my turn is up ahead, I am ready for a cool drink. (Railroad 4 of 5)

Step up to the Bar

What ever happened to the once omnipresent bar of soap? Remember that rectangular block that sat on the edge of the sink? Most sinks even have that depression on the side so that it wouldn't slide off. In most houses, caked soap has now been relegated to fancy decor (never being used for its former primary purpose) in female dominated restrooms.



For the past two decades we've been buying liquid soap in plastic bottles usually costing $2.00. Sure, you can buy large refills at $7-$8 (in a plastic bottle of course), but it sure doesn't last long. Most bars of soap are less than $1.00 and are simply wrapped in paper or cardboard (made of trees or recycled cardboard, a renewable resource). Plus, soap in bar form lasts twice as long. I also think it does a better job. I recently replaced the fancy liquid bottles containing pictures of flowers or penguins and slapped down those handy soap cakes. The only draw back is the occasional slippage, or the soapy residue they leave, but those are minor nuisances. So if you want to go a little bit more economical/environmental and reduce waste, switch back, and step up to the bar (of soap).

(Sorry I was on hiatus, although unintentionally. I am just not as narcissistic as I thought I would be. Railroad will continue soon.)

Habitat Interupted

What the heck is this doing here? A critically imperiled ecosystem, grasping this linear tract of land that runs for miles between the tracks and the neighboring houses and expressways. Pine rockland, a habitat restricted to South Florida and the Bahamas, less than 1.5% left in Dade County (excluding the glades, which have another 11%).


A native woodland, dependant on fire for its survival, is dominated by the once prized Dade County pine (Pinus elliottii var. densa) whose valuable wood was over harvested for building, being known for its termite resistance. Below the pines, almost endemic to Florida are two undervalued palms. Florida's state tree, the Cabbage palm (Sabal palmetto), whose hearts were once used (and still used in some areas) as a food source by early peoples; it is our state tree. Along with, is the red-headed stepchild of Florida palms, the Saw palmetto (Serenoa repens), a fascinating palm whose habitats are rapidly declining, possessing trunks that radiate from the center along the forest floor appearing as a wagon wheel on its side.


Native grasses abound. Many have just started flowering, acting as a harbinger for the upcoming fall. Bluestems (Schizachyrium spp.), Broomsedges (Andropogon spp.), Muhly grass (Muhlenbergia capillaris), and one of my favorites, Lopsided Indiangrass (Sorghastrum secundum), all showing off their temporary inflorescences (flower clusters) trying to cast & catch pollen in the wind.


Amid the grasses, colorful wildflowers make certain of their appearance. The scorpiontail shaped yellow inflorescences of Pineland heliotrope (Heliotropium polyphyllum) are scattered among the grasses to the delight of the bees and wasps. Along with other insects, they are grateful for this track side smorgasbord that allows them to live and eat, providing a safe place to travel to the other islands in the stream. Dancing amongst the heliotropes, Painted leaf (Poinsettia cyathophora) with its fiddle shaped leaves and striking red colored bracts reminescent of Christmas. Twining around the shrubs and palms are two vines in the Dogbane family (Apocynaceae). Calling forth are the yellow trumpets of Pineland allamanda (Angadenia berteroi) and the white pinwheels of Devil's potato (Echites umbellata). Tall flowering stalks of Wand goldenrod (Solidago stricta), conduct their magic waving in the wind. Many, many more occur along this echo of a better vanished time; I counted over seventy species.


I smile, the heart pumps in exhilaration. These guys are still hanging on, despite no help from others. Across the fence along the expressway, the story was similar. But progress mandated that the wildflowers amidst the sod be removed, and a tall concrete barrier be put in place. New sod will surely be planted, only, it won't contain any of these jewels. I think to myself, maybe our railroad friends will hop the fence, and give that sod a run for its money.


No, the railroad company doesn't manage for these plants, at least, not intentionally. I am certain an occasional spark from a train rumbling on down the tracks creates nice, slow-burning little fires, which undoubtedly are extinguished all too soon. I am thankful for the railroad company's frugality, as I am sure they don't wish to spend a lot of money altering this patch of Eden, unlike too many government agencies who should know better.


I have visited it only once, but this place is already sacred to me. I am not alone, others visit all along these 4 miles of tracks, I have seen evidence since I started my journey from the shop. Scattered everywhere are chicken bones, there is the occasional wooden carving or carefully created altar....it appears that Chango' must live here too. (Railroad 3of 5)

Tracks revealed

I've always loved trains. Not to play with, but to hear the thumping along the tracks, and not to mention that good old whistle ablowin'. They remind me of the past, which is silly, since they are still useful, and we could do with a bit more of them considering how inefficient transporting cargo in motor vehicles is. But I digress, I am here to talk about the plant jewels of the tracks.

Last summer, I dropped my car off at the shop, about 4 miles from the house (my hobo life is occurs in my interests). The car shop is along some railroad tracks that run close to my house, so I decided to hike back home along them. I've always wanted to walk the lines, as I suspected much could be learned from these now "ancient" corridors, now reserved for the uncommon train that passes along them. So off I went.

The beginning of the journey was great. Being August, sweat was really pouring off of my brow, and the air was thick and heady. The first plant species were of less interest to me, being common weedy exotics, but even they have their stories, which I'll save for later.

Now remember, plants are everywhere (just about), and not all plants are, or continue to be useful. Conservationists tend to separate those species that are native, which do little harm to the environment they're a part of, from those species which have been introduced by people and cause havoc in our natural areas.

Don't get me wrong, all plants have uses. After all, one of the definitions of a weed is "a plant whose use has not been discovered" (and I'll add "or no longer utilized"). Today, as a people, few of us grow or harvest plants for direct personal need. Our energy and food come from elsewhere by and large. So these poor non-native (or exotic) plants fill up spaces being unutilized. As a result, they crowd out existing native plant species, and all other creatures that use them. This can happen in our natural areas, but often happens in empty unmanaged lots and remnant natural fragments, such as these along the railroad tracks.

Walking from railroad timber to railroad timber, the scene began to change. Remnant habitat popped up, and I saw what I knew to occur there, pine rockland species. (Railroad 2 of 5)

Islands in the Stream

Yeah, I live in the suburbs of the city. Yet it is a bizarre metropolis, one of the few places in the U.S. where I can consider myself an ethnic minority. I grew up here. Hell, its still the best place to eat a mango, which are ripening on the trees as I write this. The flavors are intense here, changing from year to year, and yet I still don't mind calling it home.

One may think being in the city is lonely for a botanist. They'd be wrong. Large tracks of unfettered land are nearby, and hardly visited. The Everglades. The Big Cypress. The Florida Keys. All are perfectly intact, and generally perfectly regulated. I visit them often. What separates the academics from the truly passionate ones, is whether they can see the outliers. What is left, amidst the supposed nothingness caused by development's destruction. But alas, that is the curse of those with the untrained eye. For floating in the seas of suburbia and the streams of streets, are islands of nature, delicately strewn across like the freckles on the chest of a Castillianita. These jigsaw puzzle pieces may be tattered and torn, or have faded almost beyond recognition. But, they are still there if you know where and how to look. I enjoy the hidden beauties. They all have stories to tell. So in this series, the hobo botanist shall elaborate on one of his favorites: the railroad tracks. (Railroad 1 of 5)

Early Ramble

Nature is never far. This is just give a glimpse of a botanist's life from his journal. Not the first watershed event, but the beginnings of a catalytic reaction. A blast from the past, it is hard to believe such youthful hubris, and no, drugs weren't involved.

12/09/96, 16:30

A very glorious day indeed. Roughly 62 deg F. At Tamiami Pineland along a fire road cutting N/S through the center of the pineland. I wish to reiterate the poignant fact that a sense of awareness can be very powerful! I can absorb my surroundings and become very understanding of them to the degree of knowing my place in the universe. Yes, gestalt is a very powerful notion enhanced by experience...thus pleasure. I am blessed by Natural Beauty in its tragic yet exhilarating form. Death to the pines is only temporary, a pause in the grand continuum.

Humanity's destruction of its surroundings only strengthens my appreciation for what is still left. I hope to possess knowledge to a higher degree in order to increase my sense of power in the Natural World.

Is it not time to heighten one's Sense of Awareness?