NICEVILLE - Off the beaten path, along an undistinguished stretch of residential highway, sits a jewel on the Emerald Coast.

Located in Niceville, just off Highway 20 on Rocky Bayou, is Fred Gannon/Rocky Bayou State Park. There are no long and winding roads to traverse, no dirt paths to dust up your car, and no undecipherable directions to interpret to find this lovely nature preserve.

As a resident of the pastoral community of Niceville, I am especially fond of the small town feel of my home. That is why I, and most likely a majority of my neighbors, take special pride in having such a beautiful state park practically in our backyard.

The entrance to the park is literally yards off the highway, but once you enter the campground and nature preserve, you don’t sense that you are still so close to civilization.

Situated in a neatly manicured wooded area, campsites are nestled in among hard wood and pine trees. Through the branches you can get glimpses of Rocky Bayou and the stately homes lining the banks of Choctawhatchee Bay.

To the north of the campground are two hiking trails. Running along the banks of Puddin’ Head Lake, the Sand Pine Trail is about a mile circuit. The Rocky Bayou Trail follows the Choctawhatchee Bay shoreline and meanders about three quarters of a mile through the woods and back to the lake.

An Oasis of Calm
The day I visited Rocky Bayou I was mad. That sort of frustrated, annoyed mad that only a little time alone can cure. It doesn’t matter at what or who I was mad – I needed a long walk.

It was a hot, muggy day – a day that threatened rain. It made everything sweat, even the rocks and trees.

Armed with my camera I took the Rocky Bayou Trail first. At points along the trail, off shoots wandered down to the bayside.

I saw hikers sitting on wooden benches in the shade, watching the waves lap up on shore and envying the boaters out on the cool water.

I can’t count how many times I have walked these trails either alone or with my family. I have wonderful memories of bringing my daughter to the park as a young Girl Scout during summer day camp.

As I walked along I began to notice the park in a different way than I had before. Maybe it was the tunnel vision sometimes associated with anger, but I began to see the small wonders of the park. My anger also began to fade.

I became aware of thousands of delicate tumbleweeds, tiny latticework balls of deer moss that blanketed the forest floor. The swirl of a pine knot exposed on a tree trunk, or the faint impression of a deer hoof in the fine, white sand became clear.

I noticed, as if for the first time, how graceful the trees looked draped in mint-julep green Spanish Moss. Tree roots, polished black as ebony by the ebbing tides, shone in the afternoon sun. The rustle of the leaves as yellow-striped skinks skitter away seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere.

Evidence of hard times
Despite the shelter of being on the leeward side of Choctawhatchee Bay, the park has been hard hit during the last decade by several hurricanes – Opal in 1995 was especially vengeful.

The lasting effects of those explosive forces of nature weren’t removed from the park. Where trees fell across paths, wide sections of trunks were removed. The remaining branches and stumps were left in their natural state. Huge pines were uprooted, breaking open the earth, revealing gaping holes – their roots jutting out at all angles.

These derelict skeletons don’t haunt the forest. They stand vigil, casting aside the semblance of decay and ruin. In its place, they are an example of renewal and perseverance as small seedlings push their way up through the soft soil and tangle of roots.

Making Memories
Walking along the Sand Pine Trail, it was so still I could hear the wind blowing through the leaves. Small creatures skittered through the underbrush and birds called from the lake. My own footsteps muffled by the sugar fine sand on the trail.

My reverie was broken by the telltale sound of the turning of a bicycle chain. For the past hour I had been completely alone, now I was facing a young family on their own outing in the woods.

Dad was out front, warning his charges to “pull to the right” of the trail, giving me a wide berth. Outfitted in the requisite pink and white helmet, and huge sunglasses followed the daughter, a youngster no older than five. Mom brought up the end of the line, calmly and constantly calling out encouragement to her first child telling her what a fine job she was doing. All the while, brother tethered in his infant seat behind Mom, peering around the group’s matriarch not wanting to miss any of the sights.

It was such a precious moment, a young couple out together building memories with their children. I couldn’t help but smile. Their passage wasn’t an intrusion on my peace. It was an affirmation that families still do things together and enjoy it.

What better place was there to be than a quiet oasis away from the crowds and stereotypical Florida vacation spots? The beaches on the Emerald Coast are among the most beautiful in the country, if not the world, but there is a lot to be said for the hidden treasures, the places that are the real Florida and not just the places shown in tourist brochures.

There is a whole state full of wonders to find in Florida.