The dreaded and formidable rattlesnake is yet too common, and a variety of other serpents abound, particularly that admirable creature, the glass-snake: I saw a very large and beautiful on, a little distance from our camp. The alligator, a species of crocodile, abounds in the rivers and swamps, near the sea coast… On the recollection of so many and great favours and blessings, I now, with a high sense of gratitude, presume to offer up my sincere thanks to the Almighty, the Creator and Preserver.
William Bartram (1729-1823), Travels through North and South Carolina, Georgia, East and West Florida
Psalm 148:7 Praise the LORD from the earth, ye dragons, and all deeps:
With only an occasional, gentle stroke, our canoe glides easily across the surface of Billy’s Lake in the Okefenokee Swamp. The morning air is still, the water smooth, the entire scene quiet and meditative. From a bit further up the lake, echoing across the water, comes a deep rumble. A second time, the rumble breaks the still air, this time followed by another on our left bank. We stiffen in an attentive hush. Hearing the rumble again, I whisper to my daughter, “The bull gators are bellowing.” What a sound! You hear it, not only with your ears, but with your entire body. Never will you forget those intense, guttural moanings. The dragons of the deep were roaring. This is swamp!
I kissed my wife goodbye and headed south with my daughter for 217 miles on Interstate 75. The further south we drove, the higher the temperature readout displayed. Hour after hour, and mile after mile of semi-trucks, exits, and billboards until finally, just 16 miles shy of the Florida line, we turn due east at Valdosta, Georgia.
Another sixty-one miles of long, flat, boring roads through the pine flat-woods of South Georgia on GA-94. Besides the occasional barns and homesteads, the landscape is devoid of memorable landmarks. If the roads weren’t so perfectly straight, one might feel as if he were going in circles. In his Florida Sketch Book, Bradford Torrey writes…
“…the traveler rides hour after hour through seemingly endless pine barrens, otherwise known as low pine-woods and flat-woods, till he wearies of the sight.”
Bradford Torrey, Florida Sketch Book, 1894
The pine flat-woods in South Georgia are much different than the pine forests of the Piedmont. The southern pines seem taller and less foliated; they are more mindful of each others’ personal space than their crowded Loblolly cousins in the north. With only patches of Saw Palmetto and Broomsedge, the pines stretch beyond and behind, and on either side; like fields of telephone poles ever receding as one approaches. Other than passing shadows cast by the soaring vultures, there is little shade or retreat from the overhead sun.
We will soon be entering the Okefenokee, the Land of Trembling Earth…