Washington Oaks Gardens State Park, Florida

In 1936, title to a tract of land known now as Washington Oaks Gardens, a Florida State Park, was received by Louise Powis Clark (1887-1965), a widow with three children. It was to become a winter home for her and her third husband, Owen D. Young (1874-1962), also recently widowed. Both were from New York. Louise owned a lingerie company in the Philippines. Owen had been a lawyer, diplomat, and chairman of the boards of General Electric Company and RCA. But there's very little about Washington Oaks that immediately suggests the owners' wealth.

The area had been home to diverse residents, from aboriginal people to Spanish and English Colonists. In 1818, Jose Mariano Hernandez acquired the tract as an addition to his plantation, Mala Compra (Bad Purchase), to the south. Since it overlooked the Matanzas River, he called it Bella Vista (Beautiful View).

Eventually it passed to heirs, one being George L. Washington. Members of the family lived on “The Washington Place” occasionally from the 1870s to 1890s. The Washington lodge no longer exists.

In 1923, the property was sold to developers to be subdivided into residential lots known as Hernandez Estates. But the financial crash of the ‘20s and the Depression of the ‘30s put an end to that dream.

Louise and Owen discovered the property along old highway A1A in 1935 while visiting her mother in St. Augustine, FL. The developers had failed to pay taxes on some parcels, land values were way down, and the romantic couple from up North had money to spend. Louise acquired title in 1936. She and Owen were married the following year.

Rather than rename the place, they called it “Washington Oaks.” Perhaps they liked the sound of it, or named it so because George L. slept there.

Being a designer with interests in weaving and pottery, Louise went to work designing the house and gardens with an artistic eye. Their home was modest, and took full advantage of the view of the river. She combined native and exotic plants in the garden, and included oriental motifs.

Owen Young was a businessman who took an interest in horticulture, so he planted a citrus grove. Naturally, he set up a fruit stand beside old A1A where he occasionally tended and sold citrus to passersby.

My parents often took us boys to Florida in those days, sometimes traveling that scenic highway. I like to imagine we passed the old man hawking oranges by the road, not realizing he was the co-founder of RCA, NBC, and a consultant to presidents.

The Youngs eventually purchased land across the road, allowing them beach access. Owen built an office on that side so he’d have a quiet place to do business and study.  He built a nice home there for the caretaker, too.

Traffic increased, and road noise began to disturb the Young’s idyll, so they prevailed to have A1A relocated closer to the beach. A quiet, scenic portion of the old road still exists, reminding visitors of those days long gone.

Follow me to see what grows beyond the garden wall by clicking on the links below.

Travelers might have barely noticed Washington Oaks simple coquina gates. Coquina stone is sedimentary rock consisting of coquina shells and sand. It was often used as a building material.

The driveway at Washington Oaks opens to a fine view of the comfortable house and the Matanzas River beyond.

Much of the Young’s home looks as it did in the 1950s and '60s. A vintage television displays recorded episodes of old shows.

The front door of a home on the river always faces the river. Remember that.

A view of the Matanzas River from Washington Oaks Gardens, a Florida State Park.

A cistern at the site of the old Washington lodge.

Roses ‘Sweet Surrender’, ‘Gold Medal’ and ‘Pope John Paul II’ in the formal rose garden.

Visitors can rest on the garden bench beside the pond.

Bromeliads form a ground cover among palms.

Curcuma provides pops of color in the tropical garden.

A Bird-Of-Paradise (Strelitzia reginae) flower hides among the foliage.

A sculpture from Asia and koi reflect the Young’s affection for oriental motifs.

In The Compleat Angler, Izaak Walton observed “the Carp is the Queen of Rivers: a stately, a good, and a very subtil fish”. Koi are glorified carp. For bait, Walton instructed, “Take the flesh of a Rabbet or Cat cut small, and Bean-flowre;…and then mix these together, and put to them either Sugar, or Honey, …beat together in a Mortar, …and then make it into a ball, or two, or three…” Since I had none of those things, nor a fishing license, I simply watched them laze about.

Plumbago auriculata in the foreground, Monstera and magnificent ferns among palms to the rear.

A bridge not too far with Clerodendrum speciosum beside.

Ponderosa lemons (Citrus limon) in the citrus grove.

“Now the serpent was more subtle than any other wild creature that the Lord God had made.” (Genesis 3)

Impressive oaks (Quercus virginiana) at Washington Oaks Gardens State Park, FL.

Owen Young’s office now houses the gift shop at Washington Oaks Gardens State Park, FL.

Old U.S. Hwy A1A near Washington Oaks Gardens State Park, FL.

Coquina rock formations on the beach at Washington Oaks Gardens State Park, FL.

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Behind A Garden Wall: Mike Roess Gold Head Branch State Park

Gold Head Branch with Needle palm (Rhapidophyllum hystrix)

My son suggested we go to Florida for a garden excursion. We camped at Mike Roess ("Roess" is pronounced "race") Gold Head Branch State Park, one of Florida's "original State Parks" because of its history and biological diversity.

Round about getting-off-time we were caught in traffic creeping out of Jacksonville. Jacksonville was known as the largest city (measured by square miles) in the U.S. because the whole county was incorporated. Perhaps it is still. Years ago vacationers would see signs way out in the boonies marking Jacksonville's city limits. Now there are miles upon miles of commercial zones and traffic lights on FL 21.  Jacksonville has over-stuffed its boundaries.

Traffic had petered out by the time we reached Camp Blanding. It’s a large military reservation with arid sand hills surrounded by high fencing and wide security clearings, lots of scrub and saw palmettos probably full of rattlesnakes. We saw shopping malls before. Now the landscape was dotted with flowers. There were white flowers everywhere.

Arid sand hills are familiar in my neck of the woods. Acres and acres of yellow sand support turkey oaks (Quercus laevis) and longleaf pines (Pinus palustris). None grow too tall. Near them grow jessamine (Gelsemium sempervirens), sandhill rosemary (Ceratiola ericoides), yucca (Yucca filamentosa), deerberry (Vaccinium stamineum), saw palmetto (Serenoa repens), prickly pear (Opuntia spp.), wiregrass (Aristida stricta var. beyrichiana) and much, much more. But those white flowers everywhere baffled me.

Asimina obovata

We finally arrived at Gold Head Branch State Park, checked in, found our site and set up camp. I spotted a ranger along the way and asked about the white flowers. "Those are paw paws", he said. "Several species grow here."

"Really? Those are the shortest paw paws I've ever seen."

"They're edible. Animals eat the fruit. Gopher tortoises, deer, whatever."

"Paw-paws?" my son asked.

“You know, like in The Paw Paw Patch.”



This region of Florida is known for its lakes. There are two lakes sharing a famous name in Gold Head Branch State Park: Big Johnson and Little Johnson.

Judging from internet search results, Big Johnson should be a really big thing. But it isn't. Big Johnson is dried up. The ramp leads to a bog. Way, way out there is a puddle. Check out this panorama of Big Johnson Lake. Little Johnson seems no larger than Big Johnson. I guess that's what happens with time.

Big Johnson Lake

Many lakes near Gold Head Branch and the nearest town, Keystone Heights, are dry. Opinions differ about the causes. Two were mentioned most when I asked locals: cyclical drought and Jacksonville’s thirst. An old friend we visited near Melrose said residents were used to 7-year cycles of lake levels rising and falling, but they're way overdue. The last high was about 20 years ago. Lakefront landscapes looked arid, and future prospects bleak.

We found respite by descending into the Gold Head Branch ravine. It resembled a rain forest.

Needle palm (Rhapidophyllum hystrix)

Crystal clear water emerges from springs or “seeps” flowing into the bottom of the ravine at rates of 43, 200 gallons per hour and more. The moist environment supports many species very different from those above. They include Creeping Bramble fern (Hypolepis repens), Netted Chain fern (Woodwardia areolata), Partridge Berry (Mitchella repens), Southern Wood fern (Dryopteris ludoviciana), Florida Leucothoe (Agarista populifolia), Citrus spp., Needle palm (Rhapidophyllum hystrix), Blue palm (Sabal minor), Red Bay (Persea borbonia), muscadine grape (Vitis rotundifolia), Drooping leucothoe (Leucothoe fontanesiana), Gallberry (Ilex glabra), Yaupon holly (Ilex vomitoria), Southern magnolia (M. grandiflora), Devil's Walkingstick (Aralia spinosa) and much more. The ravine was once the home of Florida’s champion sweetgum tree (Liquidambar styraciflua) which was 102 feet tall and 13.5 feet diameter. Alas, it no longer exists.

Gold Head Branch

Where there's water there's life. A grist mill existed in the ravine around the turn of the century, and a general store before that. A Baptist church served nearby. A kiosk displays brief records of their histories.

Gold Head Branch State Park is home to many imperiled plants, invertebrates, amphibians, reptiles and birds.

Among features named on a park map, Devil’s Washbasin and Sheeler Lake are well worth exploring. Sheeler Lake, a pristine deep water lake, is said to be over 23,900 years old. It was once measured 72 feet deep. Devil’s Washbasin has been measured over 60 feet deep. Though not surrounded by such verdant flora as the ravine, plant species around the lakes are every bit as interesting.

Devil's Washbasin

Gold Head Branch State Park is not a planned botanical garden, but gardeners will enjoy visits. Studying plant communities helps us understand which species thrive together, why and how. Such information is invaluable to plant lovers.

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Behind A Garden Wall: Ravine Gardens State Park, Palatka, Florida

Court Of States, Ravine Gardens, Courtesy of Boston Public Library

A trip to Florida excites me as much now as when I was a child, so I was delighted when my son suggested we head south to visit a couple of Florida's state parks. They included Ravine Gardens State Park in Palatka and Mike Roess Gold Head Branch State Park near Keystone Heights, both known for their botanical wonders.

Florida advertises its state parks as "the Real Florida." Whether more real than the rest, I won't argue. But Florida's state parks certainly possess an authenticity hard to find elsewhere in the state. For example, fresh water fountains at a constant 72 degrees F temperature actually spring naturally from the ground, not only from recirculating pumps. And beasts are not cartoon characters. So, along with nostalgic scenes, the Florida State Parks are mighty appealing.

The ravine at Palatka, shaped something like a boomerang, is theorized to have been formed over millenia by artesian springs emerging under sandy ridges near the western bank of the St. John's River.  It was an ideal spot. Aboriginal Timucuans inhabited the area for Lord only knows how long, hunting, farming and fishing for sustenance in innocent, edenic tranquility. Then the Spanish arrived. It's said they were looking for land, riches, a fountain of youth, ways to outflank the French and English, and converts to Catholicism. Anyway, by the mid-eighteenth century, the Timucuans were extinct. Disappointed Spanish retreated.

After the Timucuans and Spanish, enterprising Creeks (Seminoles) and English arrived. Entrepreneurs, idealists, hopefuls, destitutes, rascals and slaves contributed to the building of Palatka, Florida, founded in 1821. Some of the big names, like Denys Rolle's, are retained in maps and nearby landmarks with Denys Rolle's name. Actually, the ravine used to belong to Denys Rolle, Esqr. (Look for the boomerang on the map.) Palatka's colorful history is well worth reading about.

The growing town needed lots of water, so the Palatka Water Works plant was built in 1886 at the lower end of the ravine. Until 1986, the water works supplied up to a million gallons of pure water per day to the city.

The country's response to national economic hardship (The Great Depression) in the 1930s brought about the Works Progress Administration. The WPA enlisted millions of unemployed Americans to perform public projects. Ravine Gardens was one result. The 59-acre garden was planted with over 95,000 azaleas, 11,000 palms, and over 250,000 other ornamentals. It was described in the 1934 Florida Municipal Record as the "Nations Outstanding C.W.A. project." The gardens were maintained by the city until given over to the state in 1970.

Old postcards advertised Ravine Gardens as picture-perfect. Perhaps it was. Picturesque stone-walled terraces invited rest. Winding paths suggested gentle strolls. The splash of an ornamental waterwheel reminded visitors of a time not so long ago. Flowers were always in bloom.

Today's approach to Ravine Gardens State Park leads through a residential/small business neighborhood and past a school, none of which look too promising. In fact, I thought we were lost, but my son's trusty GPS app assured us we were on the correct street.

Cat's-Claws (Macfadyena unguis-cati)

The entrance to Ravine Gardens State Park is constructed of fossil-rich native stone. In fact, native stone is used in most of the original structures. Stone-columned pergolas are still draped with flowers. There are coral honeysuckles (Lonicera sempervirens), cat's-claws (Macfadyena unguis-cati) and crossvines (Bignonia capreolata) flanking the Court of the States. Front and center, a large obelisk honoring President Franklin D. Roosevelt is still there.

The park consists of a formal garden, an office/visitor center complex, a playground and fitness area, several trails around and into the ravine, a picnic pavilion, an amphitheater, several walking trails and a 1.8 mile perimeter road.

To get an overview, we began the driving tour around the perimeter of the park, but stopped along the way to inspect interesting things. As it turns out, that's the best way to see the park. Come to an overlook or trail crossing, park the car, get out and walk, return, drive to another and repeat.

Springs Trail, Ravine Gardens

From the first overlook, we meandered the circuitous Springs Trail (0.6 miles). Towering palms, hardwoods and bamboo darkened the fern-lined walk. I felt like an explorer in a jungle. Bird songs and the gurgling sound of springs were enchanting. By and by we came to a delightful glade divided by a stream. What I mistook to be naturally bubbling fountains turned out to be two recirculating water pumps strategically sited to enhance the scene.

Since it is an intentional garden planted in a natural ravine, you'll find native and introduced species growing together. Begonia, Angelica and ginger lily (Hedychium) thrive near water dragon (Saururus cernuus) and royal fern (Osmunda regalis). Sword ferns (Nephrolepis cordifolia), netted chainferns (Woodwardia areolata), cinnamon ferns (Osmunda cinnamomea)  and southern woodferns (Dryopteris ludoviciana) flourish in the damp seeps. Elephant ears (Colocasia spp.) wave above rippling streams. Citrus trees with their edible ornaments dangle over shrubby palms and shrimp plants (Justicia brandegeeana). The ravine protects many tender plants from damaging cold, though some of the banana trees looked like they had been nipped by frost.

Forest canopy, Ravine Gardens

The park drive and overlooks provide many alluring views into the ravine. From above, the towering canopy reminded me of scenes from those old Tarzan movies starring Johnny Weismuller. All seemed right in my world. (What happened to my Johnny Weismuller autograph, anyway?)

For another delightful elevated view, we descended into the ravine to cross a suspension bridge surrounded by cypresses and their knees (Taxodium spp.). It won't matter how old I grow, I'll never lose the fascination with swinging bridges. I've crossed many and I can recall nearly all of them. Strangely, the most inebriating are best remembered.

We passed up walking the Azalea Trail (0.8 miles). Azalea season was over, though some straggling flowers splashed the forest with fading "red family" hues. Unfortunately, most of the azalea shrubs seem straggly, in need of pruning and brush removal.

Garden designers included an amphitheater. Who builds amphitheaters any more? As it turns out, Mike Roess Gold Head Branch State Park, built by the WPA, also has an amphitheatre. Perhaps those are remnants of a time when entertainment was more community oriented, long before the age of solitary play with i-things.

After returning to the parking lot, we strolled through the formal garden, stumbling upon a wedding almost in progress. The bride was beautiful, as all brides are. Typically, the bridesmaids barely or over-filled their ultramarine dresses, but guests and consorts encouraged each and every one with many compliments.

Detouring around the party, we returned to a cypress-shaded reflecting pool we had driven past earlier. Several couples lazed about on the dappled lawn. Even without the waterwheel, the scene was recognizable and pleasant, but not as bucolic.

Fairies at Ravine Gardens State Park

Gardens such as these are very popular spots for photography, therefore the management posts signs warning against anything beyond snap-shooting without a permit. Probably with permission, a bridal couple was captured for posterity in one setting. A pair of sprites, on cue, paused to adore their "faire" reflections from a bridge.

I already mentioned the Palatka Water Works. Since it is close-by, it seemed worth seeing, and was. I'm ever amazed at how past architects and designers ornamented the most utilitarian structures and tools. Though not extravagant, even the Palatka Water Works brickwork and roofing have their charm. The Coffin Valve Company's monogram lends dignity to a common fire hydrant. (Incidentally, some are still in use in Palatka.) The disused tanks and sediment basins with cattails even have a sentimental quality. Home, sweet frog home. What had fallen into ruin is now a small museum and community education center. A wildflower garden suggests how nearby residents can transform their landscapes.

Wildflower Garden

A historical marker near the Garden Club Of Palatka's club house reminds visitors that William Bartram (1739-1823), naturalist and botanist, once explored this area. His route is known as the William Bartram Trail. The garden didn't exist at the time, but the ravine did. Perhaps he delved into it.

Though I grew up in a family including herbalists, horticulturists, florists and gardeners, I like to think that those childhood trips to Florida also contributed to my interest in flora. Even ubiquitous species like coontie (Zamia spp.), ferns, bromeliads and cast iron plants (Aspidistra elatior) still fascinate me. God willing, I'll take many more trips to Florida to search for interesting gardens, plants, and paradise.

Ravine Gardens, Courtesy of Boston Public Library

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