Secret Spots for a Florida Weekend
Some Saturdays I wake up and feel this itch to go somewhere that isn’t crowded with a thousand beach chairs and a line of tourists arguing over sunscreen. Florida has so many tiny, odd little places that feel like they were made for families who just want a calm day, a snack, maybe a lizard sighting or two, and a car ride that doesn’t spark a backseat mutiny.
One of our favorite kinds of adventures is finding springs that look like something out of a postcard, but somehow never make it onto the fancy travel blogs. The kind where the water is so clear you can see your toes wiggling, and the kids squeal the second the cold hits their knees. I swear Wynonna acts like she’s being dunked in a polar ice pit every single time, and Krysta immediately tries to convince me she can “totally swim all the way to that rock,” even if that rock is, like, a county away. But watching them splash around in water that smells like sunshine and leaves is worth packing the soggy towels.
Then there are the little Florida towns that feel like you drove into a storybook written by someone who collects postcards and old soda bottles. Sometimes we wander into a tiny shop that seems to sell everything from honey to socks with flamingos wearing sunglasses. The streets are quiet in the nicest way, and you can usually find a spot with sweet tea cold enough to fix a cranky mood before anyone melts.
We’ve ended up on plenty of nature trails that weren’t on any map I trusted. Half the time I’m sure we’ve taken the wrong turn and are about to meet an alligator who wants to borrow a cup of sugar. But there’s something wonderful about following a narrow sandy path with nothing but birds chirping and kids crunching leaves. Every now and then the girls find a weird bug and insist we name it. Once, we met a beetle they decided to call “Mr. Sprinkles,” and now every beetle is Mr. Sprinkles, which honestly keeps things simple.
My personal favorites are the quirky spots—those places you hear about from a neighbor’s cousin’s hairdresser. Maybe it’s a tiny museum with mannequins that look like they’re judging your outfit, or a roadside fruit stand that sells milkshakes thicker than my patience during homework time. There’s something sweet about these offbeat places, like Florida is whispering, “Hey, you found one of my secrets… go ahead and tell the kids they can pick something from the shelf.”
Days like these always end the same: sand in the car, someone’s wet shoes forgotten in the trunk, and two girls passed out before we even hit the driveway. I love that feeling of coming home tired in the good way. Maybe it’s not glamorous, but it’s ours, and these little adventures feel like tiny treasures tucked into the year.