Key West Forest and Botanical Gardens
I've been pretty vocal about not liking beaches. Living here in Key West, I'm surrounded by them. I thought there was no escaping them, no place to go and brood or brainstorm; with no real bookstore to speak of here either, I thought I was doomed to have no creative sanctuary when in need of one. I had started feeling trapped on this tropical island. Even the house where Hemingway lived here failed to move me.
But then. This weekend my daughter and I had a girls' day out and I figured we might as well visit the botanical gardens down the street. Now, here's why we've never gone before and why I had my reservations about going: the aquarium downtown consists of one room - seriously that's how big it is (and it still costs, like, 18 dollars), all the "gourmet" restaurants taste like Chili's (minus the strangely delicious southwest egg rolls), and all places here hate children (no, they really do - I can't even get into it right now - I'll just say we were turned away as renters at three condos and houses when we moved here because kids weren't allowed to live in them). So I wasn't expecting the botanical gardens to be any bigger than the size of our backyard in Vegas, and I expected it to look like someone with the same level of landscaping skills as me had hastily planted everything herself just to try and hurry up to get tourists in at 20 dollars a head, even for infants, even for fetuses.
Luckily, the point I'm trying to make takes a positive turn, because I forgot for a minute there that I'm supposed to be steering away from the negative on this blog.
So, we get to the botanical gardens and there are huge, wood and steel outdoor instruments overlooking a huge duck and turtle pond right as you walk in. (The lady at the visitors' center did keep side-eyeing my daughter and asked if she was going to touch anything labeled "do not touch" and I should have said, "No, lady, but shut the fuck up or my really pregnant vagina will pee on them" but I didn't because I'm practicing decorum as of late; although I did tell a rude old lady in yoga clothes to get a fucking life [and other things before and after that] the other day in a parking lot when she was trying to move our grocery cart out of her way with my kids in it - but there's no such thing as decorum when someone comes that close to touching my kids.)
So my daughter loved the instruments. We spent half our trip there. And inside...the place is seriously gorgeous and it's the most un-commercialized botanical garden I've ever seen.
I've been pretty vocal about not liking beaches. Living here in Key West, I'm surrounded by them. I thought there was no escaping them, no place to go and brood or brainstorm; with no real bookstore to speak of here either, I thought I was doomed to have no creative sanctuary when in need of one. I had started feeling trapped on this tropical island. Even the house where Hemingway lived here failed to move me.
But then. This weekend my daughter and I had a girls' day out and I figured we might as well visit the botanical gardens down the street. Now, here's why we've never gone before and why I had my reservations about going: the aquarium downtown consists of one room - seriously that's how big it is (and it still costs, like, 18 dollars), all the "gourmet" restaurants taste like Chili's (minus the strangely delicious southwest egg rolls), and all places here hate children (no, they really do - I can't even get into it right now - I'll just say we were turned away as renters at three condos and houses when we moved here because kids weren't allowed to live in them). So I wasn't expecting the botanical gardens to be any bigger than the size of our backyard in Vegas, and I expected it to look like someone with the same level of landscaping skills as me had hastily planted everything herself just to try and hurry up to get tourists in at 20 dollars a head, even for infants, even for fetuses.
Luckily, the point I'm trying to make takes a positive turn, because I forgot for a minute there that I'm supposed to be steering away from the negative on this blog.
So, we get to the botanical gardens and there are huge, wood and steel outdoor instruments overlooking a huge duck and turtle pond right as you walk in. (The lady at the visitors' center did keep side-eyeing my daughter and asked if she was going to touch anything labeled "do not touch" and I should have said, "No, lady, but shut the fuck up or my really pregnant vagina will pee on them" but I didn't because I'm practicing decorum as of late; although I did tell a rude old lady in yoga clothes to get a fucking life [and other things before and after that] the other day in a parking lot when she was trying to move our grocery cart out of her way with my kids in it - but there's no such thing as decorum when someone comes that close to touching my kids.)
So my daughter loved the instruments. We spent half our trip there. And inside...the place is seriously gorgeous and it's the most un-commercialized botanical garden I've ever seen.
There are two paths to follow. They start off as boardwalks, then just taper off into jungles.
There were art sculptures and benches scattered around, some in really strange places that seemed impossible to access, which was really intriguing. There is one particular path that is swarming with butterflies. Iguanas scurry past you, making you scream and jump (although they do this out on the streets too, along with roosters). Something about being secluded with these creatures makes it feel more frightening.
I'm not terribly skilled at gushing about things, but my absolute most favorite part of the deceptively sprawling gardens was this burnt orange body of water.
I didn't take a picture of it, but a little further up is a somewhat
rickety gazebo-esque structure (I'm being generous by saying gazebo,
though) housing a bench and a lookout window where I can imagine myself
retreating to in the fall and winter to write and whatnot when I'm like,
"Oh shit, having three kids is hard and I need to go somewhere private
to cry for awhile."
This unassuming pond-ish spot has single-handedly restored my faith in Key West. And at the visitors' center I found out about another secret garden in an old fort overlooking a beach (can't escape 'em, but sounds more beautiful when mentioned along with a crumbling fort), a butterfly conservatory right smack in the middle of the party street downtown (oh, the juxtaposition! love it!), AND the botanical gardens hosts a meditation circle every Wednesday night! AND yoga classes three times a week! It's, like, everything I've been wishing for in Key West is right here. Not to mention my daughter loved it and keeps asking to go back. The unstructured layout made her feel like an explorer heading into danger.
When my best friend asked me the other day if I was liking Key West any better yet, I didn't just say eh this time, and that felt really revolutionary to me. So, yay!
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