Replacements

When traveling, I am often reminded that given enough time, beauty and peace can replace the most inhospitable of situations.

The White Street Pier in Key West, "the unfinished highway to Cuba," is the southernmost point in Florida.  In the early morning, visitors mingle with Key West residents and their dogs, strolling to the end of the pier.

The concrete pier is wide and low, resting a few feet above the water.  On all sides the clear water is shallow, reflecting the sun.  Dotted about are rough rocks and small fish slither in the luminous green water.

Shore birds wait for a quick meal.

The AIDS memorial is located near here, as well as a sign marking the burial ground for 294 Africans slaves who were rescued from three slave ships bound for Cuba, who then died.  The graves and the names have long disappeared. 

Also here are the Martello Towers, ruins from a fort used by the by the North to blockade the South, to starve the enemy during the Civil War.

The West Martello Tower was constructed over the burial ground of the unremembered Africans, and now these ruins enclose a tropical garden.

We parked our car under a sea grape tree and entered the old fort through a series of brick archways.

Paths meander around the garden through areas of sun and shade.  A tropical  clerodendrum vine spread across the roof of the visitors area.

Pools of yellow and orange sedums grow in the hot sandy soil near the exit.

Other plants are drab, but are structurally interesting.  The strangler fig takes root in the branches of another plant, then grows long roots to the soil, surrounding and strangling the original plant.  This tree is native to Florida and grows to 100 feet.

The autograph tree has been signed by many visitors.  By invitation?  I don't know.

The devil's backbone wins the award for interesting name.

The garden hosts a sculpture exhibit.  My favorite is Wall of Wisdom by local artist Susan Johnson.

But no sculpture could match the beauty of nature.  Here an agave and two palms soak up the sun against a backdrop of miles of ocean.

I learned of this garden years ago on a television show, Gardener's Diary with Erica Glasener, who had interviewed Joe Allen, the patron of the garden. 

Yet that garden had been destroyed in a hurricane and was replaced by a new tropical garden developed by the Key West Garden Club.

The nameless Africans were covered by a fort, planted into a garden, replaced by a tropical paradise.  As life goes on, pain is sometimes replaced by beauty.  The pain disappears, as if it never existed.