“Bok Tower — the Taj Mahal of Florida.” With a tag line like that, I didn’t expect much, but the gardens and the estate are beautiful, and well worth the 2+ hour drive to get us there.

There are landscapes in Florida that feel like invitations—open-armed gestures from the natural world to slow down, breathe deeper, and let the subtropical light fill the quieter chambers of your mind. Bok Tower Gardens, rising from the rolling sandhills of Lake Wales Ridge, is one such sanctuary.

Perched atop Iron Mountain—one of the highest points in peninsular Florida at a dizzyingly lofty 298 feet—the Tower is both a monument and a metaphor. It is Florida’s stone lighthouse of hope, a place where land and music meet, where rare ecosystems flourish, and where every winding path feels like a whispered lesson in patience, beauty, and belonging.

As a Florida naturalist, my visits here are pilgrimages. The wildlife changes with the seasons; the light changes with each step; the way my heart responds changes with whatever the land has decided to reveal that day.

And so, on a spring morning warm enough to soften the pine sap and sweeten the air with orange blossom, I set off for Bok Tower Gardens once again.

Getting There: Directions Through the Heart of Florida

Bok Tower Gardens sits almost exactly in the center of the state—fitting for a place that feels like the beating heart of Florida’s ecological soul.

From Sarasota / Bradenton (Recommended Route for Gulf Coasters)

Take I-75 North to Exit 220 for FL-64 East.
Continue east until you reach US-27 North.
Follow US-27 for about 30 miles into Lake Wales.
Look for signs pointing to Bok Tower Gardens—turn right onto Mountain Lake Cutoff Road.
Continue straight until you reach CR 17 (Scenic Highway).
Turn right; the entrance is on your left after about half a mile.

This route brings you through citrus groves, rolling hills, and surprising glimpses of longleaf pine forests—natural previews of the landscapes awaiting you at the Gardens.

From Orlando

Take I-4 West to US-27 South.
Drive about 30 miles, passing through Clermont’s lakes region and into Lake Wales.
Turn left onto Mountain Lake Cutoff Road, then follow the same directions as above.

From Tampa / St. Pete

Take I-4 East to Exit 55 for US-27 South.
Travel 25 miles to Lake Wales.
Follow signs to the Gardens.

Once you turn into the entrance road, lined with live oaks and gentle slopes, civilization slips off like an old coat. You enter a world curated not for efficiency, but for wonder.

Arriving at the Gardens: First Breath of the Ridge

When I stepped from my car, the first thing I noticed was the soundscape: a layered chorus of cardinals, eastern towhees, red-bellied woodpeckers, and somewhere far off, the resonant hammering of a pileated woodpecker. This place is sonic bliss before the first carillon note even rings.

The air smelled of longleaf pine resin warmed by the sun, mingled with loamy hints of ancient sandy soils that are older than most ecosystems east of the Mississippi. This is the Lake Wales Ridge, an island chain from prehistoric Florida—a refuge for rare species, a biological time capsule.

Frederic Law Olmsted Jr., son of the designer of Central Park, shaped the gardens to blend with these native ecosystems, not erase them. That heritage is obvious everywhere: wild and cultivated plants share boundaries the way generations of musicians share melodies.

A Naturalist’s Trail Map (Text-Based)

This is an interpretive map you can carry in your mind—simple, clear, and aligned with how a naturalist sees the land.

1. Visitor Center Trail (0.3 miles)

Terrain: Shaded, gentle slopes
Highlights: Butterfly garden, pollinator beds, interpretive exhibits
Keep an eye out for: Zebra longwings, monarchs, cloudless sulphur butterflies

This path gradually immerses you in the landscape, easing you away from asphalt and into the slow rhythm of the gardens.

2. Pine Ridge Nature Trail (0.75 miles)

Terrain: Sandy, slightly hilly; classic scrub and sandhill
Highlights: Restoration longleaf pines; rare Florida scrub vegetation; gopher tortoise burrows
Expect to see: Scrub jays, fence lizards, gopher tortoises, prickly pear cactus
Naturalist’s Note: This is the ecological gem of Bok Tower—old Florida, rugged and sun-washed.

3. Reflection Pool Path (0.25 miles)

Terrain: Paved, shaded
Highlights: Dramatic views of the Tower mirrored in the water; shady live oak alleys
Wildlife: Wood ducks, green herons, anoles, dragonflies

This is the iconic route beloved by photographers and contemplatives alike.

4. The Exedra & Singing Tower Loop (0.5 miles)

Terrain: Gentle rise, mixed canopy
Highlights: The marble Exedra, expansive views, the 205-foot neo-Gothic and art-deco Singing Tower
Wildlife: Squirrels, red-shouldered hawks, swallow-tailed kites in summer

The Singing Tower is visible from the entire loop, but never looks the same twice.

5. Hammock Hollow Children’s Garden Path (0.2 miles)

Terrain: Mixed soil, shaded
Highlights: Native plants, sculptural art, water play
Wildlife: Treefrogs, butterflies, wrens

Though designed for children, its ecological interpretation is outstanding for adults too.

Walking the Gardens: A Naturalist’s Experience

Into the Loop of Song and Stone

The Singing Tower always catches me off guard. Its pink marble shimmers slightly in the sun, the way a seashell does when you hold it to the light. Carved into its face are cranes, eagles, foxes, flamingos—Florida’s animals transformed into enduring stone guardians.

As I approached, the carillon began its midday concert. The notes drifted outward like crystalline birdsong layered atop the natural chorus. Music here doesn’t feel like performance—it feels like ecology. The 60-bell carillon is tuned to harmonize with wind, water, and forest.

A red-shouldered hawk soared across the tower’s face during one bright crescendo, casting a sharp silhouette. Even the hawk seemed to pause mid-air, listening.

The Pine Ridge: Florida’s Ancient Island Kingdom

I took the Pine Ridge Nature Trail next, where the sun fell through the open canopy of longleaf pines, creating long, elegant shadows on the sandy ground.

The Lake Wales Ridge is a world apart—a desert of botanical treasures formed when much of Florida was underwater. Its inhabitants evolved like island species:

Sand live oak twisted low by wind
Scrub morning glory blooming lilac and white
Florida rosemary with its distinctive medicinal scent
Endemic scrub mint and blazing star

Every step I took raised the faint aroma of warm sand and pine resin—an ancient perfume.

At one gopher tortoise burrow, the sandy apron was decorated with tracks: tortoise, of course, but also skink, armadillo, and a delicate line of beetle footprints like scribbles from a tiny calligrapher.

A Florida scrub-jay landed nearby, bright-eyed, tail flicking. The only jay species found exclusively in Florida, scrub-jays are cooperative breeders—family-oriented, curious, and charismatic in the way only rare birds can be. He hopped toward me, bold as a blue-feathered sheriff.

“You again,” I said, as if greeting an old friend. He cocked his head. I’m pretty sure he remembered me.

The Reflection Pool: Where Stillness Becomes a Teacher

Walking north toward the Reflection Pool, the environment softened from scrub austerity to Olmsted’s curated vision of rolling lawns and shady live oaks.

The pool sat like a polished emerald mirror, doubling the image of the Singing Tower. A pair of wood ducks glided across its surface, creating widening rings of light. Above them, Spanish moss swayed in the breeze like nature’s slow dance.

A green heron stood statue-still at the water’s edge, considering the world through eyes older than mine.

I settled on a shaded bench, letting the coolness reach my shoulders. When the wind shifted, I caught the faintest scent of camphor laurel—a tree that, despite being non-native, seems to have made peace with the Gardens’ ancient bones.

Flora & Fauna of Bok Tower Gardens

A naturalist-driven list you can print, pocket, or simply savor.

Common Flora

Native Trees

Longleaf pine
Sand live oak
Turkey oak
Slash pine
Southern magnolia
Sweetbay
Pond cypress

Flowering & Understory Plants

Prickly pear cactus
Scrub blazing star
Coreopsis (Florida’s state wildflower)
Tickseed
Passionflower
Saw palmetto
Yucca filamentosa
Coontie (host plant for Atala butterflies)

Ornamental / Garden Plants

Camellias
Azaleas
Roses
Magnolia hybrids
Tropical bromeliads
Flame vine
Jasmine

Common Fauna

Birds

Florida scrub-jay
Red-shouldered hawk
Osprey
Swallow-tailed kite (seasonal)
Pileated woodpecker
Eastern bluebird
Northern cardinal
Great egret
Green heron
Barred owl (if you’re lucky)

Reptiles & Amphibians

Gopher tortoise
Fence lizard
Brown anole
Green anole
Pinewoods treefrog
Southern toad

Mammals

Gray squirrel
Raccoon
Armadillo
Bobcat (rare)

Butterflies

Zebra longwing
Monarch
Gulf fritillary
Buckeye
Tiger swallowtail
Atala (near coontie plantings)

The Singing Tower Up Close: Stone, Water, and Memory

As I walked back toward the Tower for one last moment of reverence, I passed the moat, where koi glided like slow-moving jewels beneath the marble bridges.

The Tower itself invites contemplation—not because it demands awe, but because it suggests belonging. Its art-deco reliefs depict creatures that still walk this ridge, connecting ancient Florida to the modern world with every carved feather, every etched vine.

I placed my hand on the marble—warm, sunfed, solid. The stone felt alive.

A soft breeze rippled the oaks.
The bells began again.
And for a moment, all of Bok Tower—the ridge, the pines, the flowers, the birds, the people—felt like one breathing organism.

Leaving the Gardens: The Long Slow Exhale

Walking back toward the visitor center, I passed through pockets of birdsong, open sunlight, and shady alcoves where the air grew cool and still. Every corner offered something: a burst of flowers, a butterfly drifting like a living ember, a gopher tortoise nosing through wiregrass.

Bok Tower Gardens is not just a destination. It’s a listening place.

A place where the land still remembers what Florida once was—and invites us to remember too.

As I pulled out of the entrance drive and rejoined Scenic Highway, the ridges rolling like green shoulders in the afternoon light, I felt that familiar post-pilgrimage sensation: lighter, quieter, rearranged in some small but unmistakable way.

The bells of Bok Tower carried on behind me—soft, clear, and eternal.