And, I admit, some recent attention fell into the category of "What Botox Can Do for You."

Still, on a scale of one to 100, one being least important, eyebrows rated about a three. That’s all in the past now, in the era I now refer to as B.A.—Before Anastasia.

Anastasia (last name superfluous) is the undisputed Eyebrow Guru to the Stars. Sharon Stone, Jennifer Lopez, Renee Zellweger, Reese Witherspoon, Naomi Campbell, Elle McPherson and the rest—and now, me. It was a fluke, really. The Anastasia Brow Studio at the Ritz-Carlton Spa at Naples needed some practice brows for Anastasia’s roving trainer, Alicia Sanchez. I, the Spa Queen of the Universe, along with half a dozen others, graciously volunteered. You can read about the guys who took the plunge—or should I say, pluck—in "The Art of Looking Younger."

But let’s get back to me. As I reclined in a luxurious, operating-theater setting, encircled by aestheticians, Alicia did mysterious things with a plastic template, warm wax, tweezers, brushes and a palette of brownish powders. When I arose, there were arches! Real ones! And they didn’t wash away later with the makeup. How did she do that? I’m so in love with my new eyebrows that I may even try Anastasia’s own answer to Miracle-Gro for even more lush brows. Alicia assures me it will nicely fill out that one teeny problem area.

If eyebrows weren’t excitement enough this month, there’s plenty more on the horizon (literally): the Paradise Coast Blueway officially opens Nov. 10. It will afford paddlers an expanded network of canoe and kayak trails that now connect to two other Blueways stretching the length of Southwest Florida from the Ten Thousand Islands to Charlotte Harbor. Miles and miles of paddling trails meander through Everglades National Park, Everglades City and Goodland, into Rookery Bay and Gordon Pass, up to the northern Collier County line. And here’s the perfect marriage of nature and technology: Not a single in-water marker will mar the perfect landscape—it’s all GPS-mapped. Some 40 outfitters and guides are listed on the Paradise Coast Blueway Web site, and the newly established Paradise Coast Paddlers Club is open for membership and visitors with a full season of activities, clinics, day paddles and overnight adventures.

Where collier county’s new Paradise Coast Blueway ends, Lee County’s Great Calusa Blueway begins. Inspired by the Calusa—the region’s original natives—the trails meander through Estero Bay and connect via various waterways of Bonita Springs, Fort Myers, Sanibel and Captiva Islands to Pine Island Sound and Matlacha Pass. Paddler and Canoe & Kayak magazines call it one of the best kayaking destinations in the United States. Now’s the perfect time to check it out: the nine-day Calusa Blueway Paddling Festival, Oct. 27-Nov. 4, is packed with kayak regattas, sunset and full moon paddles, cultural, archaeological and eco activities, paddling lessons, and kayak-fishing tournaments, plus barbecue and music.

And don’t stop there—keep on paddling! Pick up the Charlotte County Blueway Trail to explore 200 more miles of seagrass beds, mangrove forests, salt marshes, creeks and coves, tidal wetlands and swamps, and, of course, the open coastline, including the Myakka River, the Peace River and Charlotte Harbor. Inside tip: Captain Marian Schneider of Grande Tours, Inc. says the curves and tunnels of the hauntingly beautiful new Wolverton Trail are luring paddlers from all over the state and beyond.

Want a beginner’s lesson and a gentle, sheltered paddle? A challenging, six-day, wilderness trail trip? Complete outfitting for a day of kayak fishing? All three Blueways have Web sites and brochures with all the resources you’ll need, including extensive maps, fishing and wildlife guides.
I suspect that before you go, you’ll want to brush up on your Calusa history. Here’s a bit of trivia to get you started.

Hernando de Escalante Fontaneda was just 13 years old and the only survivor of a Spanish shipwreck off Florida when he was captured as a slave for Juan Carlos, king of the Calusa nation. Some say the king adopted him; others say he remained a slave until his rescue. But for 17 years he lived among them along the Southwest Florida coast, in the bays and backwaters between the Ten Thousand Islands and Boca Grande. In his memoirs he describes the Calusa, whose primary occupation was fishing: "These Indians have no gold, less silver and less clothing … They go naked, except only some breech-cloths woven of palm … the women are well-proportioned, and have good countenances …"

Fontaneda’s contribution to Calusa life was the digging of a canoe shortcut between Naples Bay and the Gulf of Mexico for fishing and trade. By the 18th century, the Calusa had disappeared, and the canal that Fontaneda built had been filled in—legend says—to create the avenue that became Naples’ glamorous Fifth Avenue South.

Sometimes it’s nice to enjoy the legend and not delve too deeply into actual history. Can’t you just imagine a dugout canoe gliding past the twinkling lights of the Sugden Theatre? And inside the craft, can’t you picture a bronzed and naked fisherman and his well-proportioned woman of good countenance securing his spear and her shopping bags before pausing for refreshment at Yabba Island Grill?

Technically, mapmakers say, the Calusa canal ran just a tad to the south, between Ninth and Tenth Avenue South. A certain Naples couple, whose home sits on that land, has reason to believe them. It happened this way: The couple enhanced their landscaping with a beautiful stone-pavers path. Soon after, an angry apparition—a Calusa Indian by all guesses—appeared regularly in the house and on the new path. A psychic was brought in. The Calusa were unhappy, it seemed, that stones had been placed atop a grave on the bank of their former canal. The homeowners promptly removed the stones, and the ghostly visitations ceased.

If any ghostly Calusa still lurk in these parts, you’re most likely to feel their presence deep in the backwaters of our great Blueways. At the very least, you’re sure to encounter manatees, dolphins and rare, white pelicans near the shell mounds they left behind.

Savor these moments. And if I see you without your paddle, I shall raise a perfectly arched eyebrow.