Oops! I Just Stepped into Paradise

Knees of the cypress trees create a little village where Hobbits could live.

The five deer stood in the clearing, shafts of sun dappling them while fog wreathed through the trees. The deer watched me closely – but seemed unconcerned. I stood on the pathway and spoke quietly to them. We just quietly enjoyed each other – the human watching these beautiful creatures. The beautiful creatures, knowing they were in a protected place, knew no fear and chewed on the grass and leaves.

We were in a perfect place.

Later, as I drove the loop road of the park, I came upon two more deer. They were walking toward me as I drove the Mule, a four-wheel drive vehicle of uncertain quality with a hiccupping transmission. These deer were more fearful because they were in a trapped situation, walking the fence line. They did an about face and leaped along the sandy road to escape the vehicle.

I stopped by the Cypress Trail. My job is to walk the trail, carrying a gas-powered blower so I can blow the falling leaves off the wooden boardwalk. After blowing for a few minutes, the leaves disappear and I am left in the perfect peace of a cypress swamp.

The knees of the cypress trees rise up from the tea-tinted water. They provide stability to the trunks of the massive cypress as well as providing access to air for the root system. The place looks like something you might imagine from the Hobbit. The conical knees could be little houses. Spiders glitter like jewels in the rising sun. Their webs capture the moist air and it coats the gossamer with glittering perfection.

A ring-tailed hawk swoops down from the sky and rests on the branch of an elm tree above my head. He is interested in the human but doesn't linger.

As I wander the boardwalk, my eye is attracted to the little plaques that have been placed along the handrails. They all remember someone who has passed who had walked this trail. I am cocooned in the love of people who have gone before me. I initially photograph the plaques so I'll be able to remember the words that touch me. But, when I get back to the rig, I think the plaques deserve to stand on their own. So I have placed them to the left of this blog. Enjoy!

Day two on the trail: I was in a Kubota, a noisy but powerful machine that works great on the sugar sand of the back country at Highlands Hammock State Park. I was running the canal on the southern edge of the roosting area for the property. I’d just arrived at the vultures’ roosting area. They congregate together along the road and in the trees – between 350 and 500 of them. I have no idea what draws them to this particular part of the park. As I creep along, they flutter down from their roosts to waddle along the road or to settle on the wooden bridge I have to cross. These birds look awfully healthy. They must have lots of carrion to keep them happy.

 But wait. Out of the canal comes a sleek adult otter. He climbs the bank right in front of me, looks over his shoulder at me in the Kubota, and then quickly waddle along the sandy path. The vultures on the path jump out of his way while others drop down from the pine trees to land beside the otter. But he is having nothing to do with these birds. He slithers down the bank and submerges back into the water.

And so it goes. Not an hour goes by without something special coming into my view. There's a smile on my lips and I whistle as I do my work. Life is good.

This cypress knee has become a bowl that captures moisture in the swamp.

A Hidden Treasure

Momma alligator lies in the sun, while the babies wriggle around her at Highlands Hammock State Park.

Oh, what a treasure we have found at Highlands Hammock State Park, in the center of the state. It is old – by Florida standards – having been created back in the early 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps, that outstanding program created during the Great Depression by Franklin Roosevelt.

The program put more than three million young men to work, paying them $1 a day. Twenty five of those dollars were sent home each month to the family, while the worker kept $5. He got three meals a day, classes in the evening which helped him learn to read and write. The program resulted in bridges being built, along with roads and hundreds of parks throughout the land. 

Even though the government had access to heavy building machinery, very little of it was used so that more men could be employed. It brought back a memory of a town I visited in Namibia where the workers were complaining the government had brought in a trench digging machine to make a work project go quicker. The men of the town complained that the machine took jobs away from them. And jobs meant money - precious in a population where the unemployment level is 56 per cent. It was a brilliant program that lived on until World War II when the men transferred out to become our greatest generation.

A statue honoring the young men of the CCC stands outside the museum at Highlands Hammock State park (where Jo will volunteer as a docent).

This park is a jewel. Not only are there camping facilities, there are large areas tucked away in the back of the park with wandering trails that take you through cypress swamps, alongside canals that are teeming with alligators and wading  birds.

Jo and I don’t begin our duties for another few days so we have taken advantage of the free perks, traveling the park on the trolley with a veteran volunteer who knows much about the flora and fauna. Kevin took us along a dirt track where the general public is not allowed to travel on its own. He stopped to point out the lurking gators, dozens of them, but urged us to keep out eyes peeled for more exotic creatures. 

He explained the huge value of each of the creatures but made a point of highlighting the gopher tortoise with which we've gotten up close and personal at numerous parks. The gopher tortoise is a very important part of the local ecology.  As in any food web, if you start taking certain flora or fauna out of the equation, then you can adversely affect the survival of that ecosystem.  

The gopher tortoise is especially important because the burrows, which are dug by the tortoises, also provide homes for other animals, such as indigo snakes, gopher frogs, mice, foxes, skunks, opossums, rabbits, quail, armadillos, burrowing owls, snakes, lizards, frogs, toads and other invertebrates. Kevin said gopher tortoise burrows are home to about 250 species of animals at one time or another. They are the key to survival of the different species in time of forest burns where a scorched earth above ground requires safe havens below the earth.  Since the burrows are used by so many species, it does not take a rocket scientist to see that removing the tortoises from the local habitat would leave many animals without homes. 

We spotted a wood stork and heaps of red-bellied turtles clambering onto logs to sun themselves. But the most interesting thing he pointed out was a wonderful little aquatic plant, the floating bladderwort. This little thing has an umbrella-like series of legs with bladders on their ends. The plant floats on the still waters and eats the larvae of mosquitoes. It is carnivorous and does a world of good by cutting down on the pesky mosquitoes.

We met up with another campground host couple this morning. They travel south each year from Indianapolis, Indiana, to spend three months in the park. Bill and June walked with us over to the maintenance yard where they checked out an electric cart and gave us a tour of some other areas of the park while telling us about the facilities and the people who make it work so well.

They took us to the Cypress Swamp Trail, a boardwalk that took us over the watery swamp with thousands of cypress knees that rise two or three feet above the water. These are part of the root system of the cypress trees, allowing the tree to breathe in the swamp. Part of my duties require me to head into the swamp every third week, along with all of the other trails in the park, to check that they are clean and passable. Not only will I get great exercise, but I’ll be able to carry my camera shortly after dawn breaks to capture the primitive majesty of the place.