I look for the creature in a Florida spring, but I don’t see any signs of him. There’s no gilled body in the hydrilla. No webbed hands in the sand. Instead, I see other creatures. A turtle glides toward the dock. A fish jumps like a skipping stone. Two manatees float far outside the swim zone. Everyone knows Florida for its beaches, but those of us who have lived here long enough know its springs hold magic, too. My poet/artist