By Joe Murphy
My oldest granddaughter turned 4 this week. I struggle with the realization that I am indeed a grandfather. Then, as I gaze into the mirror and confront my gray beard, I transition to a degree of acceptance. I swear it turned gray overnight.
I am deeply thankful that my granddaughters are approaching an age where we can begin exploring nature together. I am starting to ponder what I can pass to them that my grandfather passed to me in terms of exploring and enjoying the natural world. It was his legacy and my birthright as a Floridian. Now it is my legacy and my granddaughters’ birthright.
The Florida they are starting to explore in 2025 is very different than the one I began exploring in 1975 with my grandfather. But for all the changes, there are still fundamental experiences that ground us in wild Florida. A worm on a hook is still slimy. A snake slithering past our feet is still startling. A mullet jumping still makes one smile. A shade tree is still welcome, and a cool spring still provides sublime joy.
When I was about my oldest granddaughter’s age, my grandfather taught me to crab and fish in the Gulf of Mexico. When we got back to my mom’s house, he would turn the crabs we caught loose on the kitchen floor, and I would scream in fear and joy as I was sure they were chasing me across the linoleum.
I remember he made a special tool he used when we caught a stingray to release it without feeling the searing pain of its barb. He modified a broom handle with a metal u-shaped attachment he used to pin the tail in the sand while he gently removed the hook and set the stingray free. I wish I had that tool today.
I treasure the things that my father and grandfather used when we explored nature together. I still have my dad’s binoculars. I still have the ancient red canoe he bought when I was born. Thousands of miles and millions of paddle strokes later, it lays patiently waiting in the yard to carry my granddaughters on their first river journey.
The thread of exploring the natural world winds it way through our family from those who came before me to those who will come after. We have camped, hiked, swam, paddled, watched wildlife and fished across the many magical places of Florida and the southeastern United States. Our family connection has been deepened by watching bats and stars, by wading through mud, by slapping mosquitos and by occasionally getting lost in the backwoods, backroads and backwaters of the Sunshine State.
Now it is time for me to start the cycle anew. I shared those natural and outdoor experiences with my children, and generated lots of transcendent memories, but I was sometimes focusing on parenting as much as simply being. Grandchildren are for simply being.
I am a selfish old goat in many ways. I want to keep everything the way it was. I fear and loath change. I want to share the wild places and natural wonders of my youth with my descendants as I knew them in yesteryear. But, alas, I cannot.
What I can do is speak for the trees, for the rivers, for the wild places and for the creatures that call them home. I can do it because it is simply the right and just thing to do. I can do it because of all that nature and wild Florida have given me. And I can do it for my granddaughters.
If the grandfathers of Florida spoke up more for the wild and natural legacy that was passed to us, and that we can pass to those to come, perhaps we could save more of wild Florida. A gathering of gray beards staking a claim on behalf of their grandchildren. That would be a legacy worth leaving.
Joe Murphy and his two granddaughters live in and love to explore the southern Nature Coast. Banner photo: A grandfather and his granddaughter walking in nature (iStock image).
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