St Marks Wildlife Refuge

It's not often The Way Eye See It makes multi-county hours-long road trips, but the promise of seeing new birds, particularly Redbird, was incentive enough for us to pack our bags, gas up the car, and hit the road. Our destination was Tallahassee, FL, and our first stop was the Miccosukee Land Co-op, where we planned on enjoying good food and great music.

It'd been a long time since I'd driven to Tallahassee, and there are many enticing Great Florida Birding Trail sites along US 19.  Even though a few Swallowtail Kites flew overhead as we traveled, tempting us from our path, we continued northward, making mental notes of all the places we want to stop someday.

Tallahassee is beautiful, very woodsy in places, and Miccosukee Rd, which lead us to the Co-op, is gorgeous.  It's one of Tallahassee's canopy roads, with massive oaks on both sides, branches reaching across to touch one another.  As for the Co-op, it's a 344 acre slice of paradise in the woods.  Founded in 1973, it's an intentional community comprised of residents, who share a community house, a community life, and basically chill with nature.

The music festival had already begun by the time we pulled in, but we were still early enough to visit with family and watch Redbird set up.  Redbird is my brother's folk group, four talented musicians, who like to party and play, and who sing a variety of music from Stephen Foster, to Irish ballads that tear your heart out.  This was our first time seeing Redbird live and in concert, and they were great. 

Redbird

We stayed until the last band's last note, then piled back in the car and headed into urban Tallahassee and our beds for the night.  Our grand plan was to wake up early the next morning, and make our way to St. Marks Wildlife Refuge.  But plans, as they say, are made to be broken.  My sister-in-law's blueberry pancakes called, and we decided to stay, eat breakfast, and enjoy family.  A few birds came to us, though, as we finally packed the car: Carolina Chickadees and a Tufted Titmouse or two!

Established in 1931 for wintering migratory birds, St Marks is huge, with a diversity of habitats, including salt marshes, swamps, and long leaf pine forests.  It'd been several years since my last trip there, and all I remembered was the lighthouse, and how, along the road to the lighthouse, certain areas of sawgrass reminded me of pictures I've seen of the African plains.  No lions for us, though.  The only kings of beasts we saw were little alligators cruising in the water.  They can be scary enough!

St Marks Lighthouse is impressive.  It's been guarding that parcel of the Panhandle's coastline since 1832, and is still an active lighthouse.  I can only imagine what it was like to be a lighthouse keeper back in the day.  I like to think I would have been able to handle the solitude, the wildlife, the muggy FL summers with threats of hurricanes, and the cold Panhandle winters.  I'd like to think the sound of waves continually crashing against the shore, combined with the indescrible beauty of the sun rising and setting, would have made it all worthwhile.  I can't believe it wouldn't.


lighthouse view from the rear

There are many angles from which to view the lighthouse, and it doesn't have a bad side.  This one through the oaks, though, is one of my favorites.







view of lighthouse through live oaks

 

And, because, as the caption says, I love open windows ...  Who viewed the landscape and Gulf of Mexico through them?  From the time St Marks Lighthouse was built until now, I don't think the view has changed all that much.  Even so, with 43 acres of Florida coastline in sight, how could you ever be bored?





because I love open windows

Since we had a long drive ahead, we didn't spend as much time at St Marks as we wanted.  But, whenever I travel, I always like to leave something for the return visit.  The Way Eye See It explored the lighthouse and the beach around it, stopped along the road to look for birds, alligators, and anything else roaming, flying, slithering, or swimming.  What we haven't done, though, is visit St Marks during November's Monarch butterfly migration.  See, there's always something to look forward to.  And, if we're lucky, maybe Redbird will be playing again.