Spirit of the Everglades Wall Art by Zac Kinkade

Image Notes

It is often called “a river of grass” and it covers over 5000 square miles of southern Florida. It is filled with Mangrove and Cypress trees in addition to the sawgrass for which it is most commonly known. It is the Everglades and the richness of this wetland in colorful birds, interesting critters and vicious predators is only surpassed by the vibrant horizons we see as the sun peeks above or below the horizon. A Blue Herron perches on a limb above alligators and crocodiles seemingly disinterested in the potential prey. A Florida Panther also stares on, perhaps calculating its chances for a poultry meal. Ibis, Flamingo and Egrets share the scene and if you look closely, you might see a manatee, often called a sea cow, rolling in the distant sky. I love the Everglades for its beauty and intrigue but, for me, it is also the memories it brings.

It was 1999 and my father was taking my brother, Nick, and me of one of our yearly road trips. This time we were headed south. We wanted to visit Disney World, Key West and Charleston among other sites of interest. But we also targeted Everglades Nation Park. Airboats through the sawgrass and ‘gaters in the wild. It seemed the perfect stop for two boys filled with wanderlust aged 8 and 6. And, it was. The boat sped through the grass at exhilarating speeds and the alligators looked on menacingly. It honestly ended all too soon and my brother and I didn’t want to leave. It, then, was my dad’s idea. “Let’s rent a canoe,” he smiled as he walked toward the Ranger shop. And, to this day I remember the attendants’ words to us as he pushed our tiny craft off of the dock. “Stay on the canoe trail, don’t turn around, you’ll get lost if you go backward and above all else stay in the boat, the snakes, sharks and crocodiles could get you.” He waved and shook his head as he turned away and walked back to the store. My father had told him he had never canoed before and my brother, sitting in the middle of the craft was already rocking it back and forth laughing. It was not a good sign. What happens next is the stuff of Kinkade folklore and campfire stories. I am here so I survived and truly smile at Ranger helping us to hose off the muck from the flipped canoe, the lost water tail, and the effort of bushwhacking back to civilization. If you meet me on the road or perhaps see my father, ask us to finish this tale, it is worth the listen. But until then and, as always, thank you for sharing my adventures in art.

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