VIDEO: Florida’s Forgotten Coast

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This post is part 6 of 6 of the series Florida's Forgotten Coast

This post is part 6 of 6 of the series Florida’s Forgotten Coast Will Burcher is a former police officer and current author of “The GAIAD,” a story of ancient secrets not quite forgotten and the positive power of global perspective. He lives and works in Colorado, USA. SUBSCRIBE for a chance to WIN A signed edition of The GAIAD. Join the conversation. EARTH. SPACE. INSPIRATION. EVERY 10th subscriber will receive a print edition of THE GAIAD, a new science fiction novel, signed by the author. Subscribers will also receive a 20% discount on the book—our thanks for being part of a conversation that WANTS TO BE HAD.    

The Florida Wildlife Corridor

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This post is part 5 of 6 of the series Florida's Forgotten Coast

This post is part 5 of 6 of the series Florida’s Forgotten Coast   THIS SERIES BEGAN WITH A QUESTION. It was born from a thought I had while jogging an empty beach along the Gulf the first day I arrived on the Forgotten Coast. The uniqueness of the area had already struck me, obviously and immediately apparent from the beginning. The natural-ness, the ubiquity of the birds on the wing, the wildlife, the native plants—all these things seemed new, experienced in Florida only once before during a trip to the Everglades. My question was simple, but embodied others that came with it in a cascade. Is the Forgotten Coast unique? Is it “natural?” Has development been balanced with a respect for natural environments, for native habitats, for biologically active and unique areas, such as those presented by the biomes of this place? If it is presently—balanced—can this situation be sustained? … READ MORE…

Prodigious

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This post is part 3 of 6 of the series Florida's Forgotten Coast

This post is part 3 of 6 of the series Florida’s Forgotten CoastVines below! (disclaimer) These are all small, relatively low-res cuts of a larger video I’m editing… THE LIFE HERE, the abundance. It is prodigious. My first night here was warm and wet and clear. I was staying at a house surrounded by acres of woods outside the small town of Sopchoppy, about 10 miles inland from the coast and known for its annual (yeah!) “Worm Gruntin’ Festival.” I stepped outside around 9PM to look upward—at a sky free of clouds, of stratospheric aircraft, of anything but stars and the familiar galactic haze of the Milky Way. The clarity, the visual lucidity of the night was striking—the scene in stark contrast to the nearly terrifying, natural din of the surrounding forest. The tumult came from every direction. Owls hooted, bullfrogs croaked and rumbled, their smaller cousins in the trees … READ MORE…