The City
305 to 954. Corner-store runs, loud music, louder stories.
“We don’t go out till midnight.”
For every kind of Florida boy
The hood and the harbor. The ranch and the swamp. Sunshine, sideways rain, and everything in between.
Different zip codes, same shirt, same stories.
The Water
Up before the sun, offshore by seven, lying about the size by noon.
“Ramp was packed.”
The Ranch
Okeechobee cattle country. Boots in the mud, truck on the levee.
“Y’all ain’t from here.”
The Swamp
Airboats, gators, and a cousin who swears he wrestled one.
“It was at least nine feet.”
The Sun
93° in October. Not a season here, a personality.
“It’s not that hot.”
The Rain
4 p.m. sharp, every day. A hurricane party is a holiday.
“It’ll pass in ten minutes.”