Here's a small but friendly little park in Jacksonville, where I used to spend mornings fishing for croaker with a friend. I let him have all my catch each time, because just between you and me and the NSA agents, dear reader, I wouldn't eat anything that came out of this river.
Mostly though, I just sat and sipped my morning Starbucks and watched interesting stuff float by, like dead armadillos and styrofoam coolers and such. So much for celebrating the greenscape. But you can't beat its sculpture of an acorn that looks more like a breast wearing a knitted toboggan.
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