One way in which we did not get screwed over by the teachers' strike in September was that they let us keep the Lincoln's birthday holiday, even though they took away Presidents' Day (to make up for days lost to the strike). Lincoln's birthday is a far superior holiday for travel, because nobody else in the country has it off, so airfares are not elevated as they are on the much more common Presidents' Day. Plus, it plopped itself on a Tuesday this year, so I could take one of my use-or-lose sick days on Monday and make it a 4-day weekend. Shhh, don't tell. Actually, I don't care--I'm mentally exhausted and spiritually sick, which seem legitimate reasons to take a sick day. (That would also explain why it's taken so long to get around to posting about this trip.)
The gods were smiling on this trip. It was nasty cold and snowy in Chicago, and it was sunny and 80 (+/- 1) in Sarasota all four days I was there. This was apparently to make up for all the times I went down there and the gods forbade the mercury to rise above 65. I was alone and free to do (or not do) anything I wanted. I was in relatively good health for a change. So, I slept--a lot. I made use of the rails-to-trails Legacy Trail bike path every day and kept up with my 8K race training. I went birding. I went on a day trip down to the Naples/Ft. Myers area. I buried myself in an awesome Stephen King book. I drank lots of Yuengling and ate lots of seafood. I went to the beach. Here is the evidence...
My day trip took me a couple of hours south to Naples, where I visited the Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary run by the Audubon Society. I got up at 5 (on vacation!) and drove the two hours in the dark to get there at sunrise for the birds. The sun rises really late in Florida. I took this photo to prove to my students that pine flatwoods are real; our textbook has an extended project centered on the Florida upland ecosystem, where the students have to solve the problem of building a new school on land occupied by the threatened gopher tortoise. They have to learn all about the pine flatwoods & scrubby flatwoods communities and all the different species interactions. It's a hypothetical situation, but the setting is real. I don't think I really believed it either until I went there.
Surprisingly, this is the first time I've seen bald cypresses. I love their knobby knees. This reminds me...I need to get down to southern IL at some point in my life. Other than the one-night college road trip to see Smashing Pumpkins at SIU on my 18th birthday. There was no bald cypress viewing scheduled on that trip, unfortunately.
There they are, the pine flatwoods. The prairie below was recently burned & rejuvenated.
This strangler fig looks like an alien parasite. Can you imagine it reaching out those two long tendrils like fingers to grab you and suck out your vital fluids? I can. And did.
The sanctuary was crawling with herons and egrets. I think I saw all of them there--great egret, great blue heron, little blue heron, tri-colored heron, reddish egret, snowy egret, both night-herons. OK, so maybe I didn't see the green heron or cattle egret. I love how majestic and graceful they are...and then they open their mouths. They sound like a bunch of grumpy, hoarse old men bitching at each other:
"Hey! Willard! That was my fish, ya lousy bastid!"
"I didn't see you makin' any moves on it, ya lazy chump, sittin there in the muck ova there!" "BLAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHH!!!"
"SHUT UP OVA THERE!!!"
Anhingas. Such weird birds. Very graceful in the water, then they get out and flop clumsily on the shore. Then they have to sit and dry off in the sun with their wings outstretched, because their feathers get waterlogged. Not enough oils to repel the water, or something like that. Not a very good evolutionary strategy for someone who lives in gator-infested swamps....like THESE!
These baby gators look like they're having the best time. No wonder people want them as pets. For awhile.
Bald cypresses...and blue sky. Did I mention, the sky was like that for four days, with the convenient and thoughtful exception of the evening I had to do a 4-mile run? Like I said...the gods were feeling sheepish about their past cruelties.
More proof for the kiddies. This was at the nature center at the J.N. "Ding" Darling National Wildlife Refuge on Sanibel Island, the second stop on my day trip. It's quite an optimistic and misleading sign, since most of the refuge is mangrove swamp and open water (not prime GT habitat). The guide at the info desk looked at me pityingly when I asked her where the best places to see tortoises would be. Well, shucks--don't put up signs like that if you ain't gonna deliver!
A handsome crab on a mangrove.
Some kind of Ipomoea, I presume? I had no plant guide with me.
I believe this is a brown water snake, snoozing on some mangrove prop roots. It was pointed out to me by a group of senior citizens who were freaking out about it (men included) even though we were separated by it by a couple of meters and the boardwalk handrail. Sissies.
Okay, so the lady at the nature center did tell me that there were some GT burrows at the very end of the road through the refuge, near the higher ground at the center of the island. I got out of my car and went poking around, and sure enough--some holes in the sand/gravel that were very likely GT burrows. This was one of them. The GTs were all snug inside, or out at the GT bar for the afternoon, because I didn't catch a glimpse of one.
Ta-da! I rode my bike down the Legacy Trail to Oscar Scherer State Park one morning to hang out with my pals, the federally threatened Florida scrub jays. This is also how I know the gods were feeling bad about their past treatment of me: the first few times I went here, prime scrub jay habitat, I saw zilch. It was maddening; pretty much all the other people I saw in the park those other times had reported seeing the jays, but then they would apparently hide when they heard me coming. It wasn't until my last visit before this that I finally saw them. And on THIS trip, I ventured no more than about 10 yards down the Blue Trail when this cheeky little bugger landed on a scrub oak just a few feet away from me. I laughed, said hello, and bent down to pull my camera out of my backpack. Then I felt him alight on my head. I straightened up, holding my breath, not sure what to do. He seemed very satisfied with himself. I asked him what he wanted me to do. He didn't answer, naturally. I took a series of about 15 pictures of him, and he showed no signs of wanting to leave. I walked a few steps--he stayed put. "Now, that's just lazy," I said. "I am not walking you around this park." For about five minutes we went on like this, and finally I tilted my head back to see if he would look down at me. He tried, but slipped on the floppy brim of my hat and flew away.
Here's another one, part of a family that was checking me out from a much safer distance.
Eastern corn snake! I saw him on the Green Trail, where I had gone to check out the bald eagle nest in the park. The eagles were not visible in their nest, but at least I got to see this handsome devil.
So yes, it was a smashing good trip. I added a few life birds (roseate spoonbill, barred owl, Wilson's plover), got just enough color to make me not look like a sickly wintertime Yankee ginger, and reinforced my mental health a bit. Next up: Nebraska, Arizona, and New Mexico for spring break!
