The Sage of Biscayne Bay: Charles
 Torrey Simpson's Love Affair
 with South Florida


 by Leah La Plante

 I do not want to investigate nature as though I were solving a
 problem in mathematics. I want none of the elements of busi-
 ness to enter into any of my relations with it. I am not and
 cannot be a scientific attorney. In my attempts to unravel its
 mysteries I have a sense of reverence and devotion, I feel as
 though I were on enchanted ground. And whenever any of its
 mysteries are revealed to me I have a feeling of elation I was
 about to say exaltation, just as though the birds or the trees
 had told me their secrets and I had understood their language
 -and nature herself had made me a confidant.
 Charles Torrey Simpson
 In Lower Florida Wilds, 1920

 The average sun-struck South Florida tourist, much less the resident,
is probably not sure whether the area is "tropical" or "sub-tropical." What-
ever the proper latitudinal designation, the image of exotic South Florida
is formed and elaborated by a prevailing southeast wind of flashy publicity
and wildly varied experience that has swirled the sun, the Atlantic
and the Gulf of Mexico around a lush jungle of palms, bananas,
orchids and breadfruit, across an Everglades of alligators and grace-
fully plumed herons, down to the Florida Keys' legendary pendant
jewels of the "Flowerida" necklace.

An English professor at Miami-Dade Community College's Wolfson Cam-
pus, author Leah La Plante is a native Miamian who grew up in the
downtown area. She raised two daughters on a jungle acre near Fairchild
Garden, where she has long been a member. Currently, La Plante is work-
ing on a book about early South Florida naturalists.