Florida. The Sunshine State. Or so they tell you.
I flew down for my little cousin's wedding with visions of glorious heat in my head. I was expecting plus 35, sunscreen, and sweat. Instead, I was rudely awakened by a wind chill I thought I’d left at home. I spent the trip reaching for the warmest layers in my suitcase, half-expecting to see snowflakes drift past the palm trees.
It’s funny how our perceptions of a place can be completely wrong. I wanted tropical; I got "sweater weather." But honestly? It was still pretty great. The beach has a different kind of charm when you aren't melting. Plus, I made some excellent local friends: a flock of seagulls and a very polite little crab.
