in your face, northern America!

And not because our Gators just kicked your Northern asses. You know deep down I love you Yankeeland. And - you know I'm not a football fan. I only know we won because if you're anywhere in Gainesville during a Gator victory, you don't even need to open the window. I can hear what literally sounds like a screaming stadium through my back door, and there's no stadium anywhere nearby. The game wasn't even HERE. One of the great mysteries of Gainesville I have yet to figure out.

Anyway, I get to say in your face to you, Great North, because finally my weather kicks your weather's ass (all about ass-kicking tonight, it seems). It is beautiful here. Paradisiacal. And if you're going to deprive me of my much-loved snow, paradise is an acceptable consolation.

I said to a friend last week: "Sunshine doesn't do it for me! Not what snow and dead trees does!" But I eat my words. Returning to Florida air was a reminder of every camping trip my parents ever took me on. It smells like life here. Like wet, fresh, growing things. And if you step away from the four-lane highway packed with gas stations and Walgreens, it's quiet and wild and sweet, laden with bright little flowers, crawling vines, tree branches heavy with Spanish moss.

So that's what I did. I stepped away. Some of you back home know I routinely walked the 6 or so miles home from work, even in the rain. I never thought anything could replace those long chilly city walks. Well. Nothing has. But I've found a new pleasure here, unique. Only here could I slip on a thin cardigan in January twilight, loose skirt, flip flops, wet hair tied up, and walk for miles hearing only the birds and my feet on the ground.

I can see different neighborhoods than you see up north, different than in the city. Clusters of small brightly-painted houses up on cinder blocks, buried under ferns and low-hanging trees. Little houses falling apart. I love buildings falling apart. Little kids powering their Big Wheels around a pond, crushing pine needles while tired-looking moms and dogs look on.

Florida, this is a provisional love. You will probably kill it soon with a sweltering heat wave. But for now, you have your charm and I'll like you for that. You're still kind of lame, but we both know I've never had a problem loving lame. Just stop ruining my apartment and stealing my stuff and we might get along.