ST. AUGUSTINE, Fla. — Lori Matthias and her husband, tired of Atlanta traffic, moved to St. Augustine, Florida, in 2023. For Mike Waldron and his wife, moving from the Boston area in 2020 to a place that bills itself as "the nation's oldest city" was motivated by a desire to be closer to their adult children.
They were among thousands of who migrated to the St. Augustine area in recent years, transforming the touristy beach town into one of the top remote work hubs in the United States.
Pedestrians make their way March 13 through the downtown historic district in St. Augustine, Fla.
Matthias fell in love with St. Augustine's small-town feel, trading the hourlong commute she had in Atlanta for bumping into friends and acquaintances while running errands.
"The whole pace here is slower and I'm attracted to that," said Matthias, who does sales and marketing for a power tool company. "My commute is like 30 steps from my kitchen to my office. It's just different. It's just relaxed and friendly."
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Centuries before becoming a remote work hub, the St. Augustine area was claimed by the Spanish crown in the 16th century after explorer .
In modern times, it is best known for its Spanish architecture of terra cotta roofs and arched doorways, tourist-carrying trollies, a historic fort, an alligator farm, lighthouses and a shipwreck museum.
A population boom driven by the pandemic
In St. Johns County, home to St. Augustine, the percentage of workers who did their jobs from home nearly tripled from 8.6% in 2018 to almost 24% in 2023, moving the northeast Florida county into the top ranks of U.S. counties with the largest share of people working remotely, according to U.S. Census Bureau figures.
Only counties with a heavy presence of tech, finance and government workers in metro Washington, Atlanta, Austin, Charlotte and Dallas, as well as two counties in North Carolina's Research Triangle, had a larger share of their workforce working from home. Those counties were much more populous than the 335,000 residents in St. Johns County, which has grown by more than a fifth during this decade.
Scott Maynard, a vice president of economic development for the county's chamber of commerce, attributes the initial influx of new residents to Florida's lifting of COVID-19 restrictions in businesses and schools in the while much of the country remained locked down.
"A lot of people were relocating here from the Northeast, the Midwest and California so that their children could get back to a face-to-face education," Maynard said. "That brought in a tremendous number of people who had the ability to work remotely and wanted their children back in a face-to-face school situation."
Public schools in St. Johns County are among the best in Florida, according to an by the state Department of Education.
Aliyah Meyer, an official with the St. Johns County Chamber of Commerce, walks through a downtown neighborhood March 13 in St. Augustine, Fla.
Surging popularity comes at a price
The influx of new residents brought growing pains, particularly when it comes to since many of the new, remote workers moving into the area are wealthier than locals and able to outbid them on homes, officials said.
Many essential workers such as police officers, firefighters and teachers were forced to commute from outside St. Johns County because of rising housing costs. The median home price grew from $405,000 in 2019 to almost $535,000 in 2023, according to Census Bureau figures, making the purchase of a home further out of reach for the county's essential workers.
Essential workers would need to earn at least $180,000 annually to afford the median price of a home in St. Johns County, but a teacher has an average salary of about $48,000 and a law enforcement officer earns about $58,000 on average, according to an analysis by the local chamber of commerce.
"What happened was a lot of the people, especially coming in from up North, were able to sell their homes for such a high value and come here and just pay cash since this seemed affordable to them," said Aliyah Meyer, an economic researcher at the chamber of commerce. "So it kind of inflated the market and put a bit of a constraint on the local residents."
Health care sales executive Mike Waldron works out of his home office March 13 in St. Augustine, Fla.
Waldron, a sales executive in the health care industry, was able to sell his Boston home at the height of the pandemic and purchase a three-bedroom, two-bath home in a gated community by a golf course outside St. Augustine, where "things really worked out to be less expensive down here."
The flexibility offered by fast wireless internet and the popularity of online meeting platforms since the start of the pandemic also helped.
"If I was still locked in an office," Waldron said, "I would not have been able to move down here."
People are flocking to Florida. Will there be enough water for them?
People are flocking to Florida. Will there be enough water for them?
While wading through wetlands in the headwaters of the Everglades, where tall, serrated grasses shelter alligators and water moccasins, agroecologist Elizabeth Boughton described one of Florida's biggest environmental problems: There's either too much water, or too little.Ìý
An intensifying climate, overexploitation of groundwater, and a development boom have catalyzed a looming water supply shortage—something that once seemed impossible for the rainy peninsula, reports.
"It's becoming more of an issue that everyone's aware of," said Boughton, pictured below, who studies ecosystems at the Archbold Biological Station, a research facility in Highlands County, Florida, that manages Buck Island Ranch. The ranch—a sprawling 10,500 acres of pasture lands and wildlife habitats across south-central Florida—both conserves water through land restoration while also draining it as a working cattle ranch. "You kind of take water for granted until you realize, 'Oh my gosh, this is something that is in danger of being lost.'"
Florida's Water Woes—Rising Demand, Shrinking Supply
Like many places worldwide, the dwindling freshwater availability in Florida is being exacerbated by a warming atmosphere. Sea levels in the state's coastal regions have already risen dramatically in the last few decades, pushing salt water into the groundwater and creating an impotable brackish mixture that is costly to treat. A report released last summer by the Florida Office of Demographic Research found that the state may experience , with the problem escalating in coming decades.
Florida's groundwater supply is the primary source of drinking water for roughly of the state's 23 million inhabitants, and is vital for agricultural irrigation and power generation. Public use by households, municipalities, and businesses accounts for the depletion of groundwater in Florida, while agriculture is responsible for of withdrawals.Ìý
Virtually all of Florida's groundwater comes from the state's expansive network of aquifers, a porous layer of sediment that underlies the peninsula. When it rains, water soaks into the ground and gets trapped in gaps in the rock formation—providing an that humans can tap into with wells and pumps.Ìý
But most Floridians live near large population centers—like Miami and Tampa—where the freshest aquifer water is too to be readily used. With nearly , the Sunshine State is only continuing to grow, fueling a thirsty rush for new housing developments.Ìý
The future of the state's water has long , and a ballooning population is ramping up an already-fraught situation. As leading policymakers push and parcels of agricultural land are sold to the highest bidder, districts are grappling with political demands to —often at the cost of conservation. The Florida Office of Demographic Research report found that the conservation, infrastructure, and restoration projects necessary to tackle the incoming water deficit will cost some , with the state footing over $500 million of that bill. But according to Florida TaxWatch, a government-accountability nonprofit, current water projects and sources of funding aren't to sustain the state's population growth.Ìý
Climate and Growth Strain Florida's Water Supply
Global warming has , increasing the likelihood of extreme rain events in swaths of the state, but even torrential bouts of rain drained aquifers. Intensified hurricanes are primed to overwhelm wastewater systems, forcing sewage dumps that contaminate the water supply, while rising sea levels and floods further damage public water infrastructure. Higher temperatures that drive prolonged droughts also contribute to groundwater scarcity: Florida has experienced at least per decade since the onset of the 20th century.Ìý
Such climate-borne crises are already playing out across the United States and beyond. Roughly of the nation's aquifers are drying up as global water systems . Compared to places where groundwater is already severely depleted, like California, Mexico, and Arizona, Florida has the luxury of one of the highest-producing aquifers in the world, and more time to prepare for a dearth of supply. Still, adaptation will be necessary nearly everywhere as the Earth's total terrestrial water storage, including groundwater, continues to decline. Record-breaking temperatures and crippling droughts , according to the 2024 Global Water Monitor Report.Ìý
Sarah Burns, the planning manager for the city of Tampa, home to half a million people on the Gulf Coast, expects water supplies will continue to face a number of climate pressures like drought and rising sea levels. But one of the biggest factors in the city's looming water crisis is population growth—and a hard-to-shake abundance mindset.
"It's all a challenging paradigm shift," Burns said, noting that many Floridians take pride in lush, landscaped lawns, and an influx of new homes are coming to market with water-intensive irrigation systems pre-installed. This can be seen in Tampa, where roughly of the city's water.
Tampa already exceeds its 82 million-gallons-per-year limit that it can directly provide without paying for more from the regional provider, at a higher cost to residents. In November 2023, the Southwest Florida Water Management District instituted a once-a-week lawn-watering restriction for households in the 16 counties it oversees, including Tampa. In August 2024, the Tampa City Council voted to —a move that has already saved them .Ìý
As newcomers flock to affordable housing within commuting distance of Tampa, once-rural areas are also feeling the squeeze. The nearby city of Zephyrhills—known for a namesake bottled water brand—has temporarily after it grew too quickly for its water permit.
"Water is the hidden problem that really forced our hand," said Steven Spina, a member of the Zephyrhills City Council who proposed the restriction. "It is ironic that we've been known as the 'City of Pure Water' and then we're in this predicament."
Perhaps nowhere in Florida is more at the crux of water issues than Polk County in the center of the state. According to the Census Bureau, in 2023, more people moved to the former citrus capital than , with subdivisions The growth the county is seeing "has created a need to find additional water supplies," said Eric DeHaven, the executive director of Polk Regional Water Cooperative. The entity was created in 2017 after Polk County's worries became so acute it prompted more than a dozen local governments to assemble to protect their future water supplies.
Between 2002 and 2015, Polk County's farm bureau reported 100,000 acres—about a third of the county's total agricultural land—had been . Florida farms are a crucial part of the U.S. food system, but struggles from extreme weather, citrus diseases, and are . By 2040, half of an could take the place of farms. This would further magnify Florida's water supply issues—in 2020, public utilities were estimated to have overtaken farming .Ìý
"Imagine if you own this land," said Boughton, the agroecologist. Farmers are hard-pressed to refuse offers as high as six figures per acre from developers, she noted. "There's so much pressure from urban development … that opportunity is hard to pass up."Â
"Things are definitely changing because of climate change, but it's also because of this," said Merrillee Malwitz-Jipson, gesturing to new houses built across the road from her home in Columbia County, in the north of the state. As the founder of the nonprofit Our Santa Fe River, Malwitz-Jipson has spent the last two decades fighting to save the crystal-blue springs that feed it.
Florida's Springs Signal Groundwater Problems
Collectively, the state's springs have lost over a third of their historic flow levels, while are severely polluted. Last year, Blue Springs, a locally beloved landmark, collapsed entirely. Because these springs are directly connected to the aquifer, says Malwitz-Jipson, such signs are omens of declining groundwater health.Ìý
It wasn't long ago that she devoted years to try and prevent the renewal of a controversial for bottled water for BlueTriton—formerly a subsidiary of Nestlé—in nearby Ginnie Springs. When the effort failed, she switched gears and now advocates for adding conservation conditions to water-use permits. A 2019 from the Florida Springs Institute found that restoring springs to 95% of their former flow levels would require curbing regional groundwater extractions by half.
Matt Cohen, a hydrologist who leads the University of Florida's Water Institute, says the "devil is in the details" when it comes to permitting. "It's very much where the implementation of those kinds of sustainability measures would be realized," Cohen said, adding that state water management district authorities often convince applicants to use "substantially less" water. Other measures include offering alternatives to groundwater, like using reclaimed wastewater and surface water supplies.
Coordinating such conservation efforts across Florida's five water management districts and 67 counties will take a concerted statewide approach. In November, the state unveiled its —which includes expanding conservation of agricultural lands, and investing millions into infrastructure and restoration projects, such as Buck Island Ranch—among other measures.ÌýÂ
Still, in the face of the population boom, advocates like Malwitz-Jipson wonder if it will be enough. "I don't know why the state of Florida keeps issuing all these permits," she said. "We are not ready, y'all. We do not have enough water for this."Â
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