Florida's Little-Known Green Swamp Is Heaven in the Midst of Sprawl

National Wildlife, June-July, 2000 by Steve Newborn

When Lillie Raulerson moved with her family to the heart of Florida's Green Swamp in 1923, the 11-year-old thought she was living at the end of the world. The area was so undeveloped and remote that only a few scattered families inhabited the region.

"There were only 37 children going to the local school, but most of 'em left because it was too far out," recalls the 88-year-old great- grandmother. "My daddy told us when we moved out here we might not have enough money, but we'd have enough to eat." Their land in Polk County was a wildlife haven, filled with fish, deer and wild turkeys.

Today, the Central Florida area where Raulerson grew up is no longer isolated. Not far to the west lies the Tampa metropolitan area, with its three and a half million residents. To the east sits Orlando, possibly the world's biggest tourist destination with an insatiable appetite for suburban sprawl. Smack dab in the middle of this concrete- and-asphalt straitjacket is a little-known oasis that remains both a haven for wildlife and the source of much of the region's water supplies. Indeed, the 544,000-acre Green Swamp may be one of the most important natural areas that Floridians have never heard about. Every time a person in Central Florida takes a sip from their faucet, they have a connection with this unique place.

The Green Swamp is home to the headwaters of four major rivers: the Withlacoochee, Peace, Ocklawaha and Hillsborough, which is the source of much of Tampa's drinking water. What's more, if the Floridan aquifer were a mountain, the swamp would be the peak of the underground source of most drinking water in West Central Florida. This high point helps keep pressure on the aquifer, ensuring it will feed springs, lakes, rivers and wetlands.

For both area residents and visitors to the region, the Green Swamp offers a remarkable setting for viewing wild creatures. It provides habitat for almost 40 percent of the state's native vertebrate species. The 850-square-mile swamp is home to 31 rare or endangered species, including the Florida panther and black bear. An estimated 10 percent of all the endangered wood storks left in Florida nest here when conditions are favorable. Their neighbors include bald eagles, fox squirrels, indigo snakes and butterfly orchids. To see them, visitors canoe in area rivers or hike or bicycle along old railroad corridors that have been converted to trails. "It's one of the last wild places in Central Florida that you can still get lost in," says Robert Maglievaz of the Southwest Florida Water Management District.

The name "Green Swamp" is actually a misnomer. Rather than resembling the stereotypical lush Florida wetland, the area is made up of a mosaic of gently rolling uplands interspersed with soggy lowlands. Bald cypresses lord over narrow ribbons of wetlands, sandwiched in some places by cattle pasture.

In the early 1970s, pressure to develop this wild region began building after Walt Disney World opened to the east. Recognizing the need to keep development under control, in 1974 Florida authorities designated 295,000 acres of the Green Swamp as an Area of Critical State Concern- one of six natural areas that have been so designated throughout the Sunshine State. "There haven't been any new subdivisions in the rural and core areas of the Green Swamp since the Critical Area plan was adopted," says Rebecca Jetton, who formerly headed the state's Green Swamp field office.

To help control development on private lands, the state reached an agreement in 1996 with officials in Polk and Lake counties to limit development in the core of the swamp to one family unit for every 20 acres. Still, cautions Jetton, the threat of development lingers. "There's no doubt that as Tampa and Orlando grow, the development pressure in the Green Swamp is going to increase," she says.

Meanwhile, for hardcore swamp lovers like Raulerson, this will always be home. "My daughter wants us to move," she says. "But I said no. I love this place. This is where I want to be."

Steve Newborn is a staff writer for The Tampa Tribune. For more information, see the Southwest Florida Water Management District Web site: www. swfwmd.state.fl.us. For public access, call: 1-352-796- 7211, extension 4470.