Published April 1, 2025
The Bird on the Dock – A Florida Keys Story
If you've ever visited the Florida Keys, you know it's not just the turquoise waters or the fiery sunsets that steal your heart—it’s the life that thrives in between. One of those little slices of magic lived right on our dock in Buccaneer Point, Key Largo. His name was Charlie.
Charlie was a white crane with long legs, a sharp eye, and a sense of timing that would rival any seasoned fisherman. He wasn’t our pet in the traditional sense—no cage, no leash, no rules. He came and went as he pleased, free as the sea breeze. But he was ours just the same.
Our home—my Castle by the Sea—was lovingly built by my husband, right on the bayfront. It wasn’t just a house; it was the place we raised our two boys, chased sunsets, and spent countless days fishing off the dock. And without fail, Charlie would show up at just the right moment—usually when we were cleaning fish or tossing leftover bait into the water. He had a knack for timing. A wild spirit who somehow felt like part of the family.
Over the years, Charlie became something of a symbol—a quiet reminder that home isn’t just about walls and roofs. It’s about the life that surrounds you. The stories, the salt air, the unexpected friends that land on your dock and stay awhile.
As a longtime real estate agent in the Florida Keys, I often tell clients that it’s not just about buying a house—it’s about choosing a lifestyle. And believe me, there’s no lifestyle quite like waking up to the sound of seabirds, watching dolphins play just beyond your backyard, or having a white crane named Charlie greet you at sunset.
Today, I help others find their own slice of paradise—whether it’s a waterfront retreat in Key Largo, a quiet escape in Islamorada, or a dream home where new stories can begin. And yes, I’m proud to be a top-producing agent in the Florida Keys, but more than that, I’m a storyteller, a local, and someone who understands what makes this place so special.
Charlie hasn’t been seen in a while, but I still look for him sometimes—half expecting him to glide in at dusk, land quietly on the dock, and remind me once again what home really means.