St Andrews State Park - A Lifetime of Visits
A Lifetime at St. Andrews State Park — and Another Week of New Memories
There aren’t many places in life that stay with you from childhood into your sixties, but St. Andrews State Park is one of mine. I’ve been coming here for nearly 60 years. I learned to swim in the old “kiddie pool” tucked behind the rock jetty. I fished the jetties with my dad long before sunscreen warnings and hydration reminders were a thing and in the days I could scamper across the jetty rocks at full gallup…but not now! I’ve walked these beaches collecting shells that I still display in my home today — little reminders of summers that feel both distant and familiar.
I’ve watched the park withstand hurricanes, rebuild, reshape, and keep moving forward. Dunes shift, roads get rerouted, boardwalks get rebuilt, and nature does what nature does… but the soul of this place hasn’t budged. The mix of wild shoreline, calm bay, dunes, marsh, and wildlife creates a rhythm you simply don’t find anywhere else. Every time I drive through the gate, it still feels like coming home.
This Week’s Visit: A Park That Still Delivers
We just wrapped up another week of camping in our RV, backed right up against the Grand Lagoon. And even after decades of visits, the park gave us the full St. Andrews experience — the kind of week that reminds me why this place has kept a hold on me for so long.
We hiked all over the park: beaches, shorelines, trails, and quiet roads where you can go a full mile without hearing anything but the waves and wind in the pines. We watched the sun climb over St. Andrews Bay in the morning and drop into the Gulf of America in the evening, painting the sky in colors that photographers dream about.
The wildlife didn’t disappoint, either. We saw herons, egrets, osprey, kingfishers and the return of some of our winter visitors — the hooded mergansers. Bald eagles patrolled the skies, deer slipped through the dunes, a possum wandered out on evening duty, gators warmed themselves along Gator Lake, and one turtle took its sweet time meandering across the road, reminding everyone that in this park, patience is not optional.
Down at the jetties, scuba divers were suiting up and dropping into the clear water. Fishermen were wetting their lines. On the beaches and piers, families posed for sunset photos while others fished, strolled, snorkeled, or simply soaked in the last light of the day.
And in one of those only-in-St-Andrews moments, we watched the Navy’s newest combat ship glide through the pass and into open waters — a rare sight and a proud one, knowing it was beginning its mission to protect our country.
Photographing a Place That Always Gives You Something New
After all these years, you’d think I’d have photographed everything St. Andrews has to offer. But the opposite is true. This park changes daily — the tide, the weather, the wildlife, the people, the light. You can walk the same stretch of shoreline ten times and see ten different stories unfold.
This week was no exception. I carried my camera everywhere, trying to capture as much as I could: birds in flight, deer at the edge of the marsh, reflections in the lagoon, silhouettes on the pier, small moments on the trails, and the kind of sunsets that make people stop mid-stride.
Why I Keep Coming Back
Some people travel the world looking for the next new thing. Thinking they have to leave their home town or even leave this beautiful country. I’ve always believed there’s equal joy in returning to a place that has shaped your life. St. Andrews has been that place for me — as a kid learning to swim, a teenager fishing the jetties, a parent bringing my own family here, and now, decades later, returning with the same sense of appreciation I had all those years ago.
The park may change. I may change. But the feeling stays the same. And that’s why I keep coming back.
Until next time, St. Andrews. You never disappoint. 🌅📸🦅🦌🇺🇸
