I recently returned from several days in Florida.
Had I written that sentence in the 18th century I can only imagine the wondrous tales I’d be dispensing around an enraptured northern fire. Instead, as I write it today, a residue of despair hangs in the words like those of a eulogy to a Beauty passed.
It didn’t have to be like this.
I won’t pretend that I write this with complete objectivity. Most of my days are spent in search of beauty. Our designs always pursue a natural portrayal of place that elevates its presence. In doing so the search usually begins with what defines a particular piece of earth, or what used to define it, and what our stakeholders would like to define it, with a mixture of what the surrounding community has mandated should define it, how faded past communities have defined it (be them animal or human), and what will best define it into the future. And yet amidst all that defining, definitive paths to a successful design solution can be elusive. Constraints intervene, such as conflicting visions of beauty, budget limitations, or fundamental shortcomings like seismic instability, fire-prone plant vulnerabilities, diminished water supply, and diminished indigenous resources in general. Alas, a dearth of positives often bares one truth: a manufactured beauty is, in fact, the precise assignment.
By contrast, there are areas all over the earth where our services are irrelevant, where beauty runs in such abundance that to approach it with visions of change would be preposterous. And thank goodness for these places! They comprise the inspiration banks to which so many of us lay in debt. They are the National Parks, the Marine Reserves, the swaths of wilderness, the National Monuments, the historical registries, the beckoning open spaces. In the United Kingdom they call such places Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty - such a seasoned, eloquent, and precise moniker. These AONBs run in and out of ancient human endeavors and always seem poised to someday repossess the trifling human marks that surround them.
The Sunshine State, by comparison, expresses the reverse: glimpses of natural beauty appear with sudden richness, yet are quickly left behind as fragmented, forgotten shards of a nature that seems permanently overwhelmed.
Not too long ago I came across this show, describing the intoxicating natural systems of the coastal gulf regions once archetypically expressed in Florida. Now the show’s trekkers encounter episodes of immersion with adjacent chapters of negotiating man’s myriad intrusions. And while they truly do locate some of the remaining wonders, credits roll with unmistakable lament. This place, still hiding immense splendor, does so with permanent compromise. The tide has shifted, and the way back to its original majesty is simply too far. The vehicle corridors that thoughtlessly slice through habitat have cut too deep. The linked waterways that no longer connect instead lie dead in a series of fouled puddles.
Is it surprising that the social fabric of Florida would also feel torn? Its destiny wanders in peril amidst those who came to fulfill their own fantasies without regard to those of others; or to create fantasies for others that by definition are not meant to work within the local context; or perhaps worst, to simply exploit the local bounty to fund personal fantasies destined to be constructed elsewhere. Of course the conflicting itineraries, so personal, and so divorced from communal goals, have led to dysfunction and deceit. Of course the goals of those who arrive only seasonally are at odds with those who dwell year-round. And of course the natural challenges that are simply combatted rather than understood and worked with, not against, have led to large scale synthetic failures. These social and stewardship shortfalls unite with consummate homeliness and now define this place.
And yet, behold, there IS beauty! Look there, a pocket of egrets glides effortlessly across salt water wetlands. A bewilderingly enchanting atmospheric glow broadcasts across a palm grove in afternoon glory. Light and shadow dance across shorelines in ever-changing intrigue. Florida, amidst it all, cannot help but portray its own brand of beauty. And when it does, I’m ever so thankful to have seen it; ever so hopeful that a reversal of fortune awaits.
Does it? It’s hard to stay optimistic. In an area so threatened by climate change, there is such an unchanging and deliberate ignorance. How can solutions be imminent if the intelligence needed to create them is, itself, viewed as a threat? How can the tempests that bring such increasing intensity be combatted when the lands they strike are governed with such protracted storminess? The blowing winds that batter this state are incessant (the hurricanes, thankfully, remain seasonal). Sea level rise, perhaps the most insidious, offers a slow burn of environmental doom. It will cause ill-advised and reactionary spending while an ever-worsening soil structure erodes beneath our feet. It will hasten poisoned waters and a desaturating rainbow of marine abundance. And, along the way, it will cause even more social unrest as the motivated solutions of some batter against the premeditated resistance of others.
So, I ask you, dear reader: are the days when natural beauty simply presents itself numbered? Or is a steadfast resistance to its demise lurking somewhere among us? Is there a commitment to the best parts of ourselves, and to the legacy we leave for those destined to follow us? It starts with seeking that beauty and defending it from those who cultivate its end. Do you have the resolve to fight for it?
DJ