The sun hangs low like a ripe orange in a clear blue sky, golden light dappling the forgotten Florida trail through the palmetto fronds overhead. Here, at the crossroads of a white limerock road, you’ve found yourself at the edge of the known map. Beyond this point, nothing is certain but the call of adventure. Which way do you head?
Choose your direction…
The wind carries the scent of crushed pine and freshly baled hay.
Gulls cry overhead as a cool sea breeze passes over you.
The air is thick, and Spanish moss sways from cypress trees.
You hear water trickling in the distance.