Florida trails as seen from Jacksonville to Key West and from November to April inclusivePackard, Winthrop
History
Florida trails as seen from Jacksonville to Key West and from November to April inclusive
Packard, Winthrop
Florida -- Description and travel; Natural history -- Florida
The top of a yucca is crowned each summer with a most beautiful pyramid
of waxy, pale yellow flowers, a spike several feet tall with drooping
blooms most delightful to behold, followed by pods that are now
approaching maturity, looking much like stubby green bananas ripening to
a glossy brownish red. On the top of one of these pod-pyramids a mocking
bird used to sit during the warm spell, greeting the dawn with golden
uproar. He and his fellows were most lively then, filling the thickets
with harsh chirps when not singing. The songs of different mockers vary
much, but their chirps are alike and are certainly most unmusical. They
are loud, harsh and guttural. The “mia-u-w” of a catbird is a burst of
melody in comparison.
But that singing was all for the hot weather. Suddenly the other night
the wind came up out of the north, the mercury fell in the thermometer
to the late forties, and we all froze to death--not as to our bodies,
which simply grew goose-flesh, but in our minds. Singular thing, the
Northern mind. It comes down to Florida from a country where the winter
mercury dandles the zero mark on its knee mornings. It finds the jasmine
in bloom and butterflies flitting from flower to flower. A few mornings
later it finds the mercury at thirty-eight and frost on the jasmine.
This does not specially trouble the jasmine, but it so freezes the
Northern mind that the Northern body has to sit over roaring fires and
rub its goose-flesh until the temperature rises again. But that is
Florida.
After a second or third forty-degrees-above cold snap the visitor from
frozen climes gets his balance and forgets to shiver, finding the chill
a tonic and the mid-day warmth delightful. So I fancy it is with the
mocking birds. They seem livelier now that cool weather has come, they
chirp and flutter about with much more energy, but not one of them has
opened his mouth in song since the mercury hit fifty. My front-door
friend still sits on his yucca pod part of the day, however, and still I
am puzzled to know when he leaves it and his double comes on duty.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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