Jimmy and I tunneled through the 100-foot tall Longleaf pines lining State Road 24 as time folded in on itself and swallowed up the twenty-first century; we were headed west, all the way to the quaint seaside village of Cedar Key, chasing the beautiful day we’d been given, and serendipity.
Civilization on Cedar Key today numbers one thousand, a quarter the population during her heyday; by my count, I saw more birds than people during our visit.
There was little evidence of Florida’s snow birds though. With only one road in and out of this remote fishing village, Cedar Key is more a destination than a diversion.
We took a five minute stroll up and then back down Cedar Key’s main street, Dock Street, before joining the crowds back at the Harbor Master.
This timeless enclave of Florida history at the southern tips of the Santa Fe and Suwannee Rivers had harbored man as far back as six thousand years.