FINDING PEACE

I stopped, the cooling breeze and the shade taking the edge off the heat.  High above was an osprey, perched on the tallest tree around.  I wondered if he’d do anything.  Perhaps he hadn’t planned to but all that went out the window when a couple of raucous crows started dive bombing him…..or her, and, after about eight attempts, the crows won out.

I’d just finished shooting (must be careful, that can have more deadly connotations here) a couple of squirrels grooming themselves and was looking forward to returning to the car.  I’d returned to Circle Bar B Reserve because my morning had been taken up with an R.C.I. presentation that started late and went longer.  Too late to travel to the space centre that was two hours away.  

I’d hoped for a calming effect after my photos from Homosassa disappeared without trace off the computer.  It had been devastating and I couldn’t get it out of my head but, just being here was helping.

There was water either side of me.  The primaeval swamp was on the left and Lake Hancock, the headwaters of the Peace River, was on my right.

I’d started out at the first carpark, wanting to take a different trail to the first day but not knowing exactly what to do.  As I’d been getting my gear out of the car, a gent who was obviously a nature lover, due to his attire, struck up a conversation.  I hoped he might give me some information but, it was his first time here and he assumed I was after bird photos, as did I of him but, no, he was an insect photographer; the smaller the better.  He elaborated on how one of his photos had won a significant competition recently and told me to be careful of the fire ants as he’d been bitten by a couple while pursuing a target and was still scratching.  I made a mental note – beware the fire ant!

He added that, considering where I came from, I had heaps more things that bite people.  I queried as to whether he’d studied entomology but apparently he hadn’t.  Either that or he didn’t understand my Aussie accent.

We parted and I set out on the trail that would ultimately take me to where I’d been on Monday.  Apart from one couple I saw no-one for the first half hour through scattered forest and was rewarded with my first sighting of a downy woodpecker; an attractive bird with delightful black and white patterned wings and a red cap for its head.  I also couldn’t get over how many dragonflies the place had.  During the course of the afternoon I would see over a thousand which went some way to explaining why this place had no mosquitoes, despite all the stagnant water.

I broke out between two swamps where I’d been before.  Here the shade disappeared and the heat affected me so I took off my shirt, something I should have done the other day like more sensible people. 

Though they’re not in abundance, the variety of birdlife is so diverse but even they were feeling the heat.  I smiled as a Great Blue Heron made its way out of the water right near me, turned its back to me and let out a significant squirt of white excretive matter.  I wondered if that was some sort of comment. 

I reached the intersection where Alligator Way came in, offering an alternative route back to the car but I’d been told the other day it was closed due to hurricane damage.  Still, thought I’d go as far as I could and have a look anyway.  In the end it transpired that repairs had been effected and you could walk the whole way, but I didn’t find that out till later.

Walking along this way is inspirational.  You’re in a zoo but, there are no barriers, nothing to stop you patting an alligator if you’re so inclined.  Fish keep breaching the surface of the pondages, keeping one alert but there’s so much wildlife; you just have to remember to stop regularly because otherwise you miss so much.

I come across what, in my ignorance, I thought was a lizard but no!  It’s a looks-like-a-lizard green anole, something I’ve never heard of.  On a parallel bank on my right a raccoon makes its way through the vegetation while warblers squawk in the branches beside the trail.  The therapeutic effect I’d sought is working but, wait, what’s that ahead – an alligator speed hump.

As I approach he eyes me off with one lazy eye and has the appearance that he’s not going anywhere.  Three people are arriving from the opposite direction and they’re not chancing anything either.  You just don’t know with reptiles; not a lot of emotion showing there.  He’s not a huge specimen, but you know he could do you some damage if things went awry.  That’s why this place is so amazing.  There are no fences, no barriers, no restrictions.  It’s just you, nature and the wildlife and entry is free.  I’m loving it.

I’d found out that the way has been repaired and I want to go ahead because it’s a long way back but now I’m stymied and Mr. Sun Baker’s not moving.  The impasse continues and I finally give up and retrace my steps.  I’ve only gone about 30 metres when a pair of cyclists cruise by and I jovially quip that they might want to consider a reverse gear.

However, it transpires that Mr. Gator is frightened of something after all.  Pushbikes with flashing headlights are something he doesn’t want to tangle with and he re-enters the water, much to everyone’s relief.

Now, the people who’d been on the opposite side have something else to worry about   A raccoon is minding its own business scratching along the bank beside the trail and one of the three people is dead set frightened of him.  He’s a young black dude and there’s a look of terror in his eyes and he’s raised his voice exponentially.

“I’m more frightened of him than the ‘gator man.  They supposed to be nocturnal ain’t they?  This one must have rabies!”  He’s serious and I ask him if his last will and testament are in order but can’t help but crack a broad grin.  I tell him “You should get out more, you’ve been watching a computer for too long.”  The raccoon works its way past him and sanity is returned.

It’s yet another of the numerous wildlife experiences you can have here, and now, with Lake Hancock on my right and an Everglades-style swamp on my right, I’m revelling in it.  It’s further than I think back to the car and when I reach the first carpark I scrounge a lift with some gentleman who takes me the 1 ½ kms back to the Nissan and I’m so grateful.

Hours later, when I download the photos, I’m in ecstasy because suddenly, out of nowhere, my lost pics from Homosassa pop up.  They’d been caught up in a Microsoft update and now the world had resumed its normal shape again.  Peace was at hand.

"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new lands, but in seeing with new eyes." (Marcel Proust)

                              “AS CLOSE AS YOU GET TO THE EVERGLADES”

Thus spake the lady and, by the time she uttered these words, I was wondering just how good it was.  Heck, judging by the number of binoculars and cameras with obscene lens, it had to be good.

I’d finally found Circle B Bar Reserve after I used a street number off Trip Advisor that turned out to be around 8 kms short and, after I asked someone, was told it was the next traffic light and turn left.  Sounded good except it wasn’t down that road, it was the second lights I should have ventured to.  All of which set me back about half an hour but, hey, I’d arrived at last.

I chose here because someone on the internet suggested the wildlife was fairly abundant.  That, and the fact that it seemed not that far away, set me out in my first quest for Florida nature and, as I drive in through the sphagnum moss laden trees, you can’t help but get the feeling that you’ve arrived.

The carpark was ample and around 5 chemical toilets were adjacent.  I’d only just gone past them when it was hard not to notice about two dozen people gawking up at a tree.  Binoculars and cameras all pointed in the same direction so I enquired as to what the excitement was about.  “Barred owl” came the bug-eyed reply.

Indeed there were a couple of said owls but you couldn’t get a decent angle on them.  I figured you needed to hike about ten metres into the knee length grass to get the right angle and wondered why no-one else was over there.  Oh well, off I went, was about to take a snap when Mr. Pedant said I wasn’t allowed to do that.  Apparently going off piste is verboten!  I meekly returned to the group thinking I’d wait for them to move on and then have another crack but, hardly anyone broke ranks so I moved on.

The paths are easy to follow and you can’t get lost…..unless you leave the trail which you’re not allowed to do…. I’ve been friendly to a few twitchers and they’ve reciprocated and bird sightings are readily shared.  Thus it is that I see my first cardinal, a bright red/orange bird that I get excited about but the twitchers are almost bored because they’re fairly common apparently.

There are also dragonflies everywhere, I’ll see hundreds before the day’s out but it’s hard not to note that I’m the only one bothered with them.  Wherever you walk, water’s not too far away, and it’s that which supports the wildlife.  I mean, if you glance out across the swamp, there’s not a lot happening.  It’s when you stop and watch for a minute or two that you realise just how much life there is out there. 

Fish constantly flick the surface, birds wade through the plants, squirrels scurry up and down the trees, often at times when you’re least expecting it (much like the lizards), dragonflies dance on the tips of sticks and raptors constantly soar overhead, and sometimes not.  I’m startled when a golden eagle speeds across the track at eye height with a large fish in its mouth only 15 metres in front of me.  Wildlife?  It’s right here, right now.  Earlier there’d been an osprey on a distant dead tree branch ripping one apart but it wasn’t up close and personal like this.

Then, of course, no walk here would be complete without seeing an alligator and I spot my first one, though it’s only just out the egg, basking right next to me.  Well, it was around two feet long but not really what you hope to see.  A larger one slid ominously further out in the pond, but it wasn’t anything to get excited about either.

I move on, the heat and humidity starting to take its toll, even though it’s only around 9.30.  The trail is flat, just like all of Florida actually.  I stop at a shady crossroads with seats and pause for refreshments, blissfully unaware that the biggest reptile I’ll see all day is about 20 metres away on the other side of a mound.  It will be ¾ hour before I come across him.

                         

I head out again, into the world of grackles, limpkins and gallinules, none of which I’ve seen or heard of before.  It pays to pause, because much of nature is stagnant and there’s a lot of it to see for the patient eye.  When I reach the end of a shady lane I turn back, not wishing to swelter anymore and when I get back to the intersection someone sends me right to where they just saw a ‘gator.  I move 50 metres up and get a shot of its upper bits then turn around and head back and, bingo, there it is, the biggie I’d missed earlier.  They’re not frightening like estuarine (salty) crocs, but a little more ominous than Johnson River crocs and they have a presence in this place where dog eats dog and gator eats gator.  There’s a famous pic on google search of a big one chomping on a medium sized one of his brethren at this very location.  I’m not scared, but I wouldn’t want to upset him either!

I’m sated now and slowly move towards the carpark, getting lucky twice on the return.  First up it’s a mum with a little alligator on her back and another two beside.  They’re much brighter and look like snakes almost.  Then, when I get back beside the toilets, the owls have moved to a much more accessible spot and I manage to get 5 metres off the trail without chastisement and nail one, giving him a bird call so he’ll face me.  I’m over the moon, and stuffed as well.

It’s past midday so I’ve been out there around four hours and the air conditioning in the car is such a relief.  I reflect on what someone had said.  “This park is a lot more friendly than others.  People talk to you, take their time and share their finds, unlike other places.”  I had to agree, even though I haven’t been to the others yet.