Florida Summers · Postcard 001

FLORIDA SUMMERS

Some trips are about discovering somewhere new. Others are about returning to the places that already know you.

I've been coming to Florida for summers for years.

My cousins live here, and they've always taken care of me like their little sister. They're outdoorsmen. They hunt. They fish. They roam a little wild. And when I'm here, somehow I do too.

Florida is my place of calm. My slow living.

Not quiet exactly — fast boats, loud trucks, country music, kids, thunderstorms, coolers being loaded and someone yelling for someone else.

But calm.

The kind that comes from knowing exactly where you are and exactly who you're with.

BOAT DAYS

The good ones start around 7 or 8.

Pack the snacks. Load the cooler. Stop at Big Bucks for the best breakfast biscuits. Grab ice. Head to the dock.

My cousin pulls up with the boat. Ian gets it off the trailer and into the water like the pro he is. We're SPF 50+, swimmies on, country music blasting.

And we're off.

Wind in our hair. Sun beaming down. Not a care in the world.

Shell Island when we want sugary white sand, clear water, sand dollars, tiny fish and the occasional ice cream boat floating by.

Crooked Island South when we want nobody.

And I mean nobody.

Just us, hermit crabs, shells as big as your face and miles of paradise.

Someone always falls asleep on the boat ride home.

WHAT'S IN THE COOLER

Homemade jerky.

Gatorade.

Twisted Teas. Obviously.

Burgers + sausage ready for the grill.

Chips + dip.

Ice-cold watermelon.

Frozen grapes we'll probably forget about.

There is always a cooler in someone's truck here.

Always.

COME HUNGRY

Some mornings we go crabbing.

That night, Long (my big brother cousin) cooks what we caught.

Potatoes. Homemade sausage. Local corn. Local shrimp. Fresh crab.

And somehow his famous fried rice always makes an appearance too.

Friends start showing up. Michelob Ultra flows like water. Everyone catches up. Nobody is in a rush to leave.

It's a little redneck.

And I ♡ every second of it.

THE FLORIDA LIST

Every summer I make one.

And honestly, we check off almost the same things every year.

Shell Island.

Crooked Island.

Sand dollars.

Hermit crabs.

Boat hair.

Salty skin.

Sandy toes.

Fresh shrimp.

Fried shrimp.

River floats.

Cookouts.

Breakfast in bed.

Sunset golf-cart rides.

Sweet tea.

Watermelon.

SPF.

Cousins.

Belly laughs.

Maybe that's the point.

Not everything has to be new to still feel good.

SLOW MORNINGS

After a long day in the sun, nobody is rushing the next morning.

One of my favorite things about the South is breakfast in bed. Someone is always awake before everyone else, already cooking.

The house is freezing from the AC.

Wet swimmies hang in the shower.

Beach towels are drying outside.

Publix and Walmart bags cover the kitchen counter.

Someone's nose is a little pink from yesterday.

Eventually we'll figure out what we're doing.

Or we won't.

THE IN-BETWEEN

This might actually be my favorite part.

Bare feet on the floor of the big truck.

Sand absolutely everywhere.

The boys loading coolers.

Gas-station runs where someone calls you baby, sweetheart, darlin' or honey before you've even decided what you want.

Boat gasoline mixed with salt air.

Warm rain that comes and goes.

Thunderstorms rumbling somewhere in the distance.

Cicadas when we float the river.

Messy hair.

No makeup.

Not caring.

Laughing with my cousin until neither of us makes a sound anymore.

And everybody having a nickname you somehow just learn.

Wee Wee.

Paw Paw.

Long Bach answering the phone, with that southern snuffy draw ;)

Jason Baxter. Morgan Black. Kenny Moore... you know Billy Wayne??!

Around here, somehow a first name never feels like enough.

THE REAL LAZY RIVER

Bear Claw in Marianna.

Four hours floating down a real river with a picnic, a cooler and the turtle box — the waterproof speakers everyone links together until somehow we've created a floating concert.

Cicadas.

Turtles.

Friends.

Cold drinks.

Go at your own risk.

It's SO much fun.

SUNSET, ALWAYS

There's always time for a sunset cruise.

Pile onto the golf cart, drinks in hand, and cruise around my uncle's country club.

Over the bridge to see the turtles.

Across the main road toward the bay.

Be home by dark for dinner.

That's the schedule.

OUR FLORIDA FAVORITES

Shell Island
Go by boat. Sugary white sand, clear water, sand dollars and the cutest little fish. Stay long enough and the ice cream boat might find you.

Crooked Island South
Our deserted island. Hermit crabs, enormous shells and sometimes not another person in sight. P A R A D I S E.

Funland
Old-school beachside arcade. Claw machines, nostalgia and an ice cream sundae before you leave.

Moe's BBQ
The best mac + cheese — coming from someone who doesn't even really like mac + cheese. Get the ribs too. Catching them open is half the adventure.

Big Mama's Kitchen
Breakfast. Whatever the special is that day. True Southern cooking.

Uncle Ernie's
Pull up by car or boat. Sit by the docks. Order fresh fish.

Hunt's
Oysters + some of the best seafood in town.

Wally World
Yes, Walmart made the list. The Panama City one is enormous, weirdly immaculate and full of the nicest people. Load up on beach snacks and whatever else we forgot.

Bear Claw River Float — Marianna
Four hours down the river. Bring the cooler, picnic + turtle box. You'll understand when you get there.

WHAT I'M WEARING

Florida is hot.

Really hot.

The humidity hits the second you walk outside, and the sun somehow feels different here.

Light + airy wins.

Always have a swimmie underneath because you never know when you're going to need to jump in.

Everywhere Pants.

Second Skin Tank.

Sunshine + Books Hat.

SPF 50+.

Sun Soaked before walking out the door.

Done.

UNTIL NEXT SUMMER

Leaving Florida always makes me sad.

Maybe because it takes me right back to my first summers here.

The smell of my cousin's cologne.

Gas from the work trucks.

That thick Florida heat.

The people who make me feel like I can do anything.

Because when else am I going fishing? Crabbing? Floating four hours down a river? Riding around barefoot in a sandy truck and feeling completely at home doing it?

Travel keeps me curious because it shows me different ways to live.

But Florida reminds me of something else.

Sometimes the places we return to show us different versions of ourselves.

And I really like who I am here.

Same time next summer. ♡