We took State Road 24, an east-west highway that runs through Central Florida between Waldo (no more wondering, Where’s Waldo?) and the small coastal town of Cedar Key on the Gulf of Mexico.
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.
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.
To infinity and beyond.
Both delivered on their promise.
Cedar Key, so named for the forests of cedar that were once so plentiful, sits three miles out into the Gulf of Mexico, a chain of barrier islands in their own time zone – Island Time.
Cedar Key is 60 miles west of Gainesville and 2.1 miles west of U.S. 19/98, at the end of State Road 24.
Time was when a million cubic feet of cedar was transported out of Cedar Key, the second largest city in the state of Florida during the 1880s. The bustling port was the terminus for the Cross Florida Railroad originating in Fernandina on Florida’s east coast. The one-hundred-fifty-five mile track, the dream of Florida Congressman David Levy Yulee, cut days off the once hazardous route ships took sailing through the Florida Straits (the “keys”).
Yep, this was the end of the line.
The key port city fell to Union soldiers in 1862 during the Civil War, although after the war Cedar Key resumed her status as a major ship building, timber, and fishing center, at least until man exhausted all the timber. In 1896, with the writing on the wall, Mother Nature wiped away all evidence of civilization on Cedar Key via a devastating hurricane.
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.
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.
This must be Pelican Point.
Considering Florida is the fourth most populous state in the U.S. behind California, Texas and New York, this small pocket of “old Florida charm” seemed to be flying under the radar, along with most of the brown pelicans, herons, ibis, cormorants, and egrets in the area.
 The runway is cleared for landing. |  This guys working on his, "walking on water" skills. |
 Flights of fancy? |  Look, ma. No hands. |
Then again, this area has been designated a National Wildlife Refuge since 1929 (President Hoover designated three of the thirteen barrier islands a breeding ground for colonial birds), in recent years welcoming 200,000 nesting birds in a single season and countless migratory birds in the spring and fall.
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.
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.
Couldn't find any of the people to go with these vehicles.
We’d arrived just after three in the afternoon, having lost the better half of the day to a late start and the journey. Don’t do as I do; do as I say. Get up and out early to make the most of the day. If I’d had Cedar Key to do over again, I’d have opted for a one-night stay or a much earlier departure. The one-night stay would have been perfect!
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.
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.
Cedar Key's version of a deck crawl.
We scored a picnic table to call our very own and sat on the deck to soak up the sun (obviously a popular pastime);
 We obviously need to soak up quite a bit of sun. |  Sunny side up for this cormorant. |
the solitude;
Thinking deep thoughts.
and the serenity.
Peace be with you.
Island Time had suddenly rendered the moment a gift of rare clarity to be savored; and so we went with the moment, sitting back and watching the tour boats;
Several of Keys in Cedar Key are only accessible by boat. On the top of my list next trip.
the kayakers;
Another sightseeing option I want to try.
the fishermen;
At the top of Jimmy's list - fishing.
and the birds. Eat your heart out, Alfred Hitchcock!.
 Pole dancing? |  Room for one more. |
My heart was in heaven.
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.
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.
Photo of an illustration by Merald Clark at Shell Mound archeological site.
Jimmy and I visited an archeological site in Cedar Key where remnants of those “shell cultures” still exist. Modern man was still taking advantage of the bounty these wetlands and marshes harbor.
Whoa! Let's not rock the boat.
Thanks to modern man’s foresight, eight thousand acres in and around Cedar Key were added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1989, preserving these wetlands and marshes for hopefully another six thousand years.
Sky and marshlands meet in the middle.
Jimmy and I watched the sun set from that archeological site (okay, from the pier),
impressed once again with Florida’s fragile and beautiful window into her world.
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