Nature's Unconditional Love University of Florida's Lake Alice

The air is damp as I begin my walk over to Lake Alice. A storm is brewing and blowing into the area. As I look up, my glasses are struck by a piercing beam of light peeking through the billowing storm clouds. My ears are vibrating with the scratching sounds of my sneakers on the concrete from my inability to pick up my feet while walking, a habit my mom cannot stand.

I sit down on a concrete picnic table, located under a massive tree, surrounded by crisp fallen leaves that crunch beneath the weight of my sneakers. The rough concrete scrapes against the back of my thighs as I take a seat. Below, the ground is in a disarray of dirt and sand. It is evident the Earth below the table has not seen the light of day in years. Gum covers the table in its entirety, now black and dehydrated from the wear and tear of the world around. I wondered what flavor and color they used to be. I hate watermelon gum. It was my grandma’s favorite, but it always gave me a headache. Grey, mold-speckled gum is not the only guest at the picnic table party, I am also joined by an army of ants. The ants take over the entire table as if they were trying to eat it, like a crumb on the sidewalk.

The lake that flows to my left is an open water marsh system. Lake Alice receives inputs from stormwater runoff, inter-storm discharges, irrigation water, and direct rainfall. Even crazier, The Lake Alice watershed drains approximately 60% of the University of Florida's main campus. The lake is known to be the largest on UF’s campus, at approximately 129.5 acres. A notable UF destination, one I highly recommend visiting.

A symphony of construction, buses, scooters, bikes, cars, running water, birds, and crickets overload my ears. However, the faint music played by a girl on the moss-covered bridge to my left carries with the wind and whispers into my ears. My eyes meet the sound. A girl sits atop the bridge with her phone beside her, playing what I believe to be indie/alternative music. She sits over the side of the bridge, Nike Air Force shoes, no longer bright white, kicking back and forth as she faces the sun-glistened lake.

I could only wonder what the girl on the bridge was thinking, why she was there, and why she may be alone. Her phone beside her, but she did not once use it. She glanced back a few times probably wondering the same of me. From an outside perspective, she truly seemed to be appreciating the environment, becoming one with her surroundings. As I look out at the lake and the girl on the bridge, I hear the whimsical chuckle of a young child. I look to my right and a family of four is approaching, parents hand-in-hand with the youngest child.

The family of four approaches the girl on the bridge, and they laugh and talk together about the nature surrounding them. The young child, full of life and curiosity, playfully splashes in the water as the parents talk with the girl about the lake and the views. After the conversation concludes the family leaves and respects the girl’s space as she continues to take in her surroundings.

My mind began to wander as I started thinking about trees and The Giving Tree, a book that reminds me of my childhood and evokes a sense of sadness within me. Is the lesson of the book about giving and loving unconditionally? Or is it about how one can ask too much of nature? Nobody truly knows the answer except for the book’s author, Shel Silverstein, but I believe the two messages are one in the same. Nature does indeed give unconditionally to humankind, and it is our responsibility to respect those benefits without taking too much. Our relationship with Lake Alice is one that we must appreciate and not take for granted.

Lake Alice is identified as the core component of a designated Conservation Area. Conservation Areas are campus areas characterized by significant habitat or functions and protected from future development. Like the message in The Giving Tree, we must do our part in adopting strategies designed to protect the lake and surrounding environment from human disturbance. It is also evident, by the signs placed all around me, that many rules and regulations are in place to conserve Lake Alice.

The water moves west to east, flowing with the refreshing light breeze. The surface of the water is a glassy reflection in the parts that are not rippling with the wind, bright with the colors of the lush green grass on the other side of the lake. Dragonflies dance together along the still water, reflecting their angelic bodies upon the surface. A blue heron swoops across the water like a plane coming in for landing. Beneath the flight trail of the heron, a stream of movement can be traced along the surface of the water. A gator, a fish, a snake? The world may never know.

My eyeline is met by a petite bee that sends my body into an immediate panic, becoming as stiff as the concrete that sits beneath me. The bee flutters its wings at what seems to be hyper speed. My head dodges the bee as if the two of us were playing a game of tag. I then remembered, that if I were to leave the bee alone it would not harm me. Thus, with a shift in perspective toward the world around me, I was able to rather appreciate this moment instead of fear it.

As I admire the bee, chills are sent through my body when I hear an intense crash of a skateboard against the curb and a body hitting the pavement. A boy with tangerine-hued hair stands up and brushes off the sand and dirt mixture that has painted his hands and knees. He makes his way to the moss-covered bridge, still occupied by the girl sitting along the ledge.

Before reaching the bridge, the boy wipes his sweat off his face, overheating from his expedition. His shirt is no longer grey, the spine and chest of his shirt now black from perspiration. Beads of sweat can be seen alongside his forehead and sideburns. Gainesville is called The Swamp for a reason, that’s for sure. The damp air still lingers, despite the slight breeze.

The boy embraces the girl on the bridge with a hug of affection. They sit side-by-side on the ledge of the bridge, not one, but now two sets of off-white-colored Nike’s swinging in the wind. The two of them sit together watching the scenery of priceless nature. I became envious of the moment they were sharing, nature embracing them with a sense of warmth and comfort.

After a brief period passes the two make their way to the lonesome tree stump. Together the two take a seat on the stump, tall enough that the girl’s feet do not touch the ground below. The stump is no longer alone, just like the ending of The Giving Tree. Life can truly feel like you are a part of a book or a movie, thus, it is just as important to recognize the themes and messages in such mediums can be applied to nature.

By conserving natural spaces, we are ensuring that future generations can enjoy the wonders of the natural world and the species that inhabit them. Conserving, protecting, respecting, and appreciating our natural environments is more critical than ever before. We must envision and create a present and future where the human and natural worlds flourish together. Spaces like Lake Alice are the perfect places to learn about conservation efforts and begin the journey towards effective change.

References

University of Florida . (2016). Lake Alice . UF Clean Water Campaign. Retrieved October 24, 2022, from https://soils.ifas.ufl.edu/campuswaterquality/water/lake-alice.shtml