Author and photographer John Spohrer presents a tapestry of the land, plants and animals of one our nation’s great repositories of bio-diversity, Florida’s Forgotten Coast. Encompassing the sprawling longleaf pine flatwoods of the Apalachicola National Forest, the vast wetlands of Tate’s Hell Swamp State Forest, the crucial floodplains of the Apalachicola National Estuarine Research Reserve, the life-abundant waters of Apalachicola Bay and St. Joseph Bay and the wide, sandy beaches of St. George Island, St. Vincent Island and Dog Island, this region comprises an extensive range of vital, interactive habitats.

Here is an irreplaceable natural community that is coming under ever-increasing development pressure.

Meet some of the locals: A crazy great blue heron, a neighborly ridgeback dog, an owl named Oscar, a lost flamingo, a volunteer turtler and the beauties of Hell. There are many other vivid personalities in the stories the author draws from over two decades of seeking out, observing and eventually photographing “. . . the heart and soul of The Forgotten Coast, its wild creatures in their wild places.”

176 pages. 196 original color photographs. Read a recent Review

Take a guided tour to another world, a wild place as far removed from the hand of man as possible. The Forgotten Coast and its incredible bio-diversity could never be cataloged in one book, but in his words and images the author and photographer gives us both a sweeping view and intimate introductions to some of its many fascinating inhabitants.

Where do baby pelicans come from? What’s life like in a great blue heron rookery? Why are least terns an endangered species? How do eagles choose their next meal? Who counts sea turtles on St. George Island? What flies at night in the swamp? These questions and many more are answered in a style that combines the author’s experiences in the field with compelling portraits of the individual creatures that have graced his life.

Exerpt:

“As I sat reflecting on the (tern) colony’s demise the air turbulence from speeding vehicles rocked my truck. I didn’t regret the time or abuse I had taken to free the ill-fated chick. I had witnessed the mills of extinction grinding small. I had seen the futility of my individual action, but I had also helped a tiny puffball and felt it struggle, the common pulse of life. I took the puffball’s picture and that would always remind me how hard the tiny creature was trying. How difficult it is sometimes to stay alive; how precious our days.”