Hot. Humid. Tropical…ish. It really is beautiful. But the city (the sprawling Orlando amoebic city) is a little all-encompassing. It goes and goes, transitioning from downtown to suburbs, to smaller municipalities; it spreads out quite extensively.
Because of this, there are difficulties finding places of seclusion within nature. Of course, there are many beautiful lakes and ample, lovely beaches are within an hour or two, but the lack of respite can still envelop you if you’re not careful.
So, I’ve done my due diligence to discover local gems—a few places of rest where I can go in spite of the consistent drum of traffic. Above the busy city-lifestyle. Places of Shangri-La-ic peace.
A couple are city parks (Loch Haven and Ward), some are the springs (Blue and Wekiva), but there is one place that overcomes them all. Here, I’ll reference it as “It Which Must Not Be Named”.
“It Which Must Not Be Named” is a pristine paradise located within one of the Orlando neighborhood city-limits, but if you look it up by name (real or pseudonym) on some internet mapping database, you will not find it. I don’t know exactly why…but I want to think that the nearby residents pay to keep it off the search engines, thus protecting that which is beloved to them from much outside traffic.
If this is true, I support fervently.
Walking. Sitting. Wading. Swimming. Hammock napping. Tree climbing. Paddleboading. Bird-feces dodging. Soccer-ball kicking. Prayer. Lunch. Sabbath resting.
The list of my favorite things to do is long at this luscious location, which has been a staple for me for the past year.
And that’s why its name is un-utterable for me. It’s too precious to become popular. If you find it, I’ll see you there. Otherwise, you’re on your own.
I’m sorry if this offends you, but it’s just too unique. Too special, too quaint. Yet…if you live in Orlando, I wish you the best. For if you do find it, your spirit might be a little more free: stumbling on a beautiful piece of God’s creation in the midst of man’s.