February in Destin is the off season. I chose to focus on expanding development along Florida's emerald coast - picturing its heedless growth - yet also picturing the murmurous light and silence of the natural world; a sliver of freedom to be found holding out against encroaching commercialization. Within that freedom is room for human interaction and conservation within these natural spaces. There is still space for the slash pines, scrub palms, boars and bears among the high-rises clinging to the shore and the beach shacks rebelling against impeding monotony. Destin is where recent retirees say "good morning" at 3pm with a sly grin - looking up at the hazy atmosphere like peering through an afternoon buzz, and in the evening the water rises in the trembling light - spilling like wine into the Gulf dusk.