"Way Down Upon the Suwannee River..."

As we headed east and south from Indian Pass, towards the keys, we did not have any plans for a couple of days. We stopped for fuel on highway 19 and asked a ranger man for suggestions on a place to camp. He directed us back the direction we had come from, about 15 miles, and west to Manatee Springs state park. By the time we arrived it was getting dark, but we needed a little exercise and decided to walk out to the river at dusk. This was an erie trek. The trail turned into a boardwalk, six feet above the swamp. The boardwalk paralleled a fresh water spring that flowed out to the Suwannee river. There was a swimming area in the spring but next to it was a sign with the picture of an alligator warning would be swimmers of the danger. We decided that we would not be swimming tonight.
The skies were filled with birds. They were big, but we could not make out what they were. The forest was mostly cypress trees and in every one these mammoths perched. As we broke out of the wood, and crept out onto the dock at the river's edge, we looked up, down, and across the river to see thousands of these black birds. They were all looking at us, as if waiting for a hand out, or for one of us to die and provide dinner for the flock. About this time a couple of senior volunteers strode up and told us that the birds were black vultures.
The next morning we headed out to the river again to see what the scenery would be like in the day light. The black vultures were still waiting for us, but there was other wildlife as well. Turtles fornicating in the waters around the dock, thousands of different kinds of fish, darting in and out, hiding in the grasses, and leaping out of the water. About this time I spy a large school of fish, and lifted Erik up onto the railing so he can see them too. I point them out and he says..."I can't see them Dad...", "Erik, they are right over there" pointing. "Dad, I still don't see them, I just see the big one", "What big one, don't you see the huge school, right there" pointing again. "No Dad, I just see the huge one, over there" now he is pointing, and finally I see what he is talking about. A 6 foot Manatee about 20 feet off the dock, just lazily floating around, with an occasional flap of its tail and a lift of its snout to get a breath of air (I think they breath air).

So, the state song in Florida is "Old Folks at Home" and you have heard it before. This song was written in 1851 but has been shunned because it is widely viewed as racist. However, since we were on the Suwannee River, and the lyrics were published in the paper that day, I thought I would recite them here:

Way down upon de Swanee ribber, Far, far away, Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere's wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation, Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, and for de old folks at home.

Chorus: All de world as sad and dreary, Ebry where I roam, Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary, Far from de old folks at home. All round de little farm I wandered when I was young, Den many happy days I squandered, Many de songs I sung. When I was playing wid my brudder Happy was I Oh! take me to my kind old mudder, Dere let me live and die. One little hut among de bushes, One dat I love, Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes, No matter where I rove. when will I see de bees a humming all round de comb? When will I hear de banjo tumming down in my good old home?

By Stephen Foster