While strolling along a path on Caladisi Island I came across an unusual palm tree. The tree looked as though it had grown tired of its upright position and decided it was more comfortable closer to the ground. Perhaps the tree wanted to be a bench for tired travelers. I read somewhere that palm trees are very resilient and flexible. They can bend almost all the way to the ground and spring back up after a storm. Unlike many other trees, they almost never blow away. I have always found them to be intriguing. The rustling of palms at night is comforting and there is something intoxicatingly romantic about them. Growing up in New England there were the usual suspects; white pine, oak, elk, maple, spruce and the rare white birch. I find the north eastern landscape to be very beautiful but too stark and naked during the winter months. A trip to Florida in 2006 sealed my fate. I gazed out the window of the plane and saw the tall fan palms swaying alongside the edges of Tampa Bay. I marveled at their beauty and spent a great deal of time looking up at them, like a child, well after we landed. I have seen palm trees in many other places throughout my life but these trees resonated with me. It seemed to me that they greeted me and wanted me to stay. I could not forget about them and moved down south five months later.