Through stories of nature near at hand, a South Florida writer offers a unique view of humans and the environment amid development and change
Florida Book Awards, Honorable Mention for Florida Nonfiction
Florida Historical Society Stetson Kennedy Award
Wings and talons clatter against a windowpane. Foxes den under a deck. Pines stand in quarter-acre lots, recalling a vanished forest. In this book, Andrew Furman explores touchpoints between his everyday suburban life and the environment in South Florida, contemplating his place in a subtropical landscape stretching from the Everglades to the warm Atlantic coast. Transportive vignettes of encounters in the natural world blend with ordinary, all-too-relatable stories of home and family life in these chapters. Puzzled and fascinated by the plants and animals he meets while continually preoccupied by busy domestic routines, Furman illustrates the beauty of his “suburban wilderness.” He also reckons with changes and threats to the surrounding landscape. How, he asks, should humans go about living in what is simultaneously one of the most overdeveloped and most naturally beautiful states in the country?
Furman’s meditations give rise to an environmental ethic that challenges distinctions between nature and culture, wilderness and civilization, solitude and family life. Rather, with humor and hope, he encourages readers to engage in life with the mindset that the human and non-human are inextricably connected—and to ask how they can better belong together.
Of Slash Pines and Manatees is a creative and memorable example for anyone seeking to live responsibly and richly in a world impacted by human activity. Furman inspires readers to focus fiercely on the local, to conduct their own adventures in the ecosystem outside their front doors, and to see that even in the most overdeveloped areas, what is wild persists.
Funding for this publication was provided through a grant from Florida Humanities with funds from the National Endowment for the Humanities. Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this publication do not necessarily represent those of Florida Humanities or the National Endowment for the Humanities.
