Okay, this is a more-than-usual self-serving post. Every January I used to spend at least 10 days at the Flamingo Campground in Everglades National Park. For all sorts of reasons, I haven't been in awhile. I miss it. I haven't even seen it since Hurricane Wilma blew through.
Perhaps if I extol its wonders to ya'll then I'll get myself back down there. Here we go.
First off, oh my god, the sunrises make you forget that there ever was even a single mosquito the night before. Sometimes, just lounging against the pile of pillows on my van bed, I've seen a Great White Heron and a Reddish Egret poking around at the edge of the Bay. One thing I always do is figure out the tides so that I can ride them up to Snake Bight on my kayak and float among the Roseate Spoonbills roosting in the mangroves. Oh, and then there was that year when dead center in the midst of the scores of White Pelicans crowded onto a sand bar, there was one Pink Flamingo. Do not get me started on the butterflies. Or the snakes. Or the mysteries of a coastal salt marsh. Or sitting on the marina dock, eating a yogurt, and watching manatees and a crocodile.
So, see you in January?