I wondered who the six people were that wanted to leave their mark on the world. The tan inner layer of the royal palm was showing through. They were here and left graffiti to prove that they visited K-12. Hmmmm � K-12, another bit of graffiti, in a sense, to designate this area from others in the Fakahatchee. The initials designate the six individuals that were here before me. All unique in their own way, yet different from me; but we shared something in common-a visit to K-12.

K-12 is a parcel of land inside the Fakahatchee Strand. It is privately owned but will one day become a part of the preserve. At one time there was a cabin built there; but today there is only a fire ring, a makeshift table-sink, and a recently built shelter on an area that was built up with fill dirt. The swamp is within a few feet in either direction. A path leads into the swamp past a privy and over a crudely built boardwalk. At the beginning of the trail is a sign that reads, "This is not a D.O.T. approved foot-board pathway. Walk this path at your own risk. Enjoy a rare moment within the Fakahatchee."

Can we consider this hand painted sign, which was leaning up against a cypress knee, graffiti? The property owners apparently realized the beauty surrounding K-12. They had a message to tell just as all graffiti does. Their message was to "Enjoy a rare moment within the Fakahatchee." The people with the initials, DS, EM, MS, LR, DM, JP, also have a message to tell. All we can do is try to decipher what message is behind their carving. Maybe it was just that they visited here and memorialized their safe journey by carving initials into the royal palm.

The Fakahatchee is the only area in Florida where the Royal Palms grow wild. A young palm scrapped its frond on my truck topper in the night breezes. In the center of K-12 two royal palms reach a hundred feet into the sky. On the trail leading into the swamp are five or six palms, tall and magnificent. These trees that were once harvested to decorate the boulevards of larger cities are now protected. They are protected yet one suffered the scraping of a knife.

I did not notice the graffiti when I got to K-12. It was dark and there was a pinkish glow in the west over Marco Island and Naples. No noise of the city could be heard here yet the swamp was alive. Tiny tree frogs could be heard croaking from every direction. Hoot owls called to each other from far away. The swamp sounded out with a vocal graffiti that carved a mark on my soul. I can still hear the frogs and owls that welcomed me to their habitat.

The February air was cool even in the swamps of South Florida, but it was not too cold to enjoy a little nude time. I relaxed for a long while with just a blanket draped over my shoulders for warmth while listening to the swamp. What a wonderful alive place it was this evening. The frogs were apparently singing praise for the abundant rainfall this year. The moon was trying to shine its beams through the clouds to create a special ambiance. Nature's graffiti.

In the morning, I awakened to songbirds of various sorts. Most I could not identify but there was a catbird in the tree next to my truck. He sang for a half-hour with his musical cat-like calls. More vocal graffiti etched into my being. The birds were there also to announce that they survived another night in the swamp. They sang out to claim their territories and to put their mark on the world in the form of song.

Then I got to thinking about the graffiti that I noticed on the royal palm. At first I wondered why someone would want to deface such a beautiful tree. But then I realized that I too wanted to leave my mark on the world. I wanted to carve "DPR was here" into the royal palm in big bold letters. No. I wanted to carve Roeb�re into the tree to let people know that I visited. That the adventuresome person who wrote outdoor news journals about his Florida travels visited here. "Dustin P. Roeb�re a legend in his own time" some might say, or maybe just a legend in his own mind.

The next day while hiking with friends, the subject of graffiti came up. I had not even mentioned the carving on the palm. "Why do you suppose that ancient petroglyphs and rock art is considered more valuable than our modern graffiti?" asked Dave. It was an interesting topic that we discussed for a while. Yes, some of our modern graffiti uses vulgar language; but is it any different than native peoples drawing human forms with enlarged genitalia? Basically it proves that we are very much like our ancestors. We all want to leave a mark on the world whether it is on a rock in the desert Southwest or a royal palm in the Fakahatchee Strand.