Salty Dogs

Heading home on my morning run, I find a man standing at the bank of Crane Creek, just staring at the sun-flecked water.

"Gator?" I asked.

He turns to me. "I saw something flip, thought maybe it was a snook."

What he saw was a manatee eating grass, he said with glee. A huge smile broke out on his face.

"Florida."

"Gotta love it," I said.

Moments later I encounter a hawk sitting on the road. He turns his head as another hawk flies over and takes off.

Florida.

If I leave, which is a distinct possibility, I will miss Florida deeply. It has been home to me for most of my adult life. I spent most of my career in journalism here.

But Thursday I will find out whether I still have a job at my newspaper. If I am let go, I will take my running shoes elsewhere.

I will miss many things about Florida, especially the wildlife, the beautiful rivers and lakes, the seashore.

But I won't miss the humidity.