Wall Springs Park

blue-winged teal

Wall Springs Park in Palm Harbor is a sweet place, but I sort of wrote it off my bird watching list about a year ago, after a few ho-hum visits.  Well, that was a mistake.  Recently, a coworker mentioned she'd been watching a Great Horned Owl there over the course of several weeks, and I decided finally to find it for myself - and by find it, I mean asking my coworker she'd found it. 

In addition to being a pleasant place to walk around, Wall Springs is full of history.  It was originally owned by the Wall family, until, in 1927, they sold their property, and Wall Springs became Health Springs.  The spring was used as a health spa and bathing area up until the mid-60's. By then, the name had reverted back to Wall Springs. Between 1988 until 2009, Pinellas County aquired the property, totalling 210 acres, definitely a respectable size. The source of the spring is the Upper Florida Aquifer, and the spring waters maintains a balmy 74 degree temp. Swimming is no longer allowed, though, in order to maintain the ecosystem. The park is even connected to the Pinellas Trail, which makes for easy bike access.
 

red-breasted merganser

I dropped by one Saturday evening after work, with only my binoculars, thinking of the relaxing walk and potential owl sighting.  Of course, because I didn't have my camera, the first bird I saw was brand new to me.  Without a picture, I had to rely on my memory, and hope I'd recognize this duck when I got home and looked in the Stokes Guide to Eastern Birds, which I also didn't have with me.  Soon after seeing new duck number 1, new duck number 2 paddled by.  There were also several mallards in the spa/pond area, as well as gulls, 2 Little Blue Egrets, and a Tricolored Heron.  If you follow the sidewalk around the pond, you'll cross a bridge over Boggy Bayou, which is another opportunity to see birds - Great Egrets, White Ibis, and a Great Blue Heron this time. The sidewalk turns off to piers, which offer great views, but, if you continue towards the observation tower, you'll find the tree where the Great Horned Owl lives.  She's well camoflagued, but she's worth the effort.

great horned owl

After watching the owl, ear tufts gently blown by the breeze, giant yellow staring eyes, I turned back and headed towards the bridge.  On one side, there were two Snowy Egrets standing on driftwood, then, nearby, another bird unfamiliar to me. I was excited, hoping it was a Clapper Rail, since I've seen them in pictures, but never in person. I'd also recently read about Clapper Rail sightings in the area, so I stored that guy in my memory bank, along with the two new ducks.  SPOILER ALERT for the picture below!

juvenile black-crowned night heron

As excited as I was to go home and look up the birds I'd seen, I wasn't going to miss a gorgeous Florida sunset, looking out from the pier, taking in the breeze and the birds flying off to roost. Is there anything better?

another beautiful florida sunset

And with help from my bird guide,  I was able to identify the ducks and bird I'd seen: Blue-winged Teals, Red-breasted Mergansers, and a juvenile Black-Crowned Night Heron.  So no Clapper Rail this time, but they're around. I know I'll see one sometime, and that's all that matters.  When it comes to my time in nature, I'm happy with whatever's on offer, and what I see almost always exceeds my expectations.  As for Wall Springs, I learned my lesson: don't give up on parks, because you never know when a ho-hum experience will turn into a great one.

Sand Key Park

tern chick

      

"Cute! Cute! Cute!"  That's what I wrote in my journal the evening after visiting Black Skimmers, Royal Terns and their chicks at Sand Key Park in Clearwater.  Since I rarely go to the beach, I had no idea these guys were laying eggs, until I read about them on PinellasBirds.com. Their location wasn't revealed, but, after a little detective work, I figured out where to find them. I'd never been to Sand Key before (that I remembered), and hadn't been through Clearwater Beach in years. The Way I See It was on a new adventure, and crossing off yet another park on the Great Florida Birding Trail.

Sand Key Park is an oasis compared to Clearwater Beach, which is extremely touristy and built-up, a far cry from back in the day when I was a kid, and there wasn't much more than mom & pop hotels, miles of sand, and the Gulf of Mexico.

A barrier island, Sand Key is 95 beautiful acres, separated from Clearwater Beach by Clearwater Pass.  It was opened to the public in 1984, and visitors can enjoy both the beach and park, where there's a salt marsh.  I definitely recommend a trip to this park, but don't necessarily recommend going on a summer's afternoon, even early afternoon. It was hot!

Even the birds looked hot, at least the snowy egret we saw in the parking lot did.  At first, I thought it was a white plastic bag in the water, until I got closer, and could see it was a snowy submerged to its neck. Out on the beach, some of the Black Skimmers were crashed, bellies flat on the sand, looking dead, which scared me at first.  I image the cool sand felt good to them. 

Terns of varying sizes were everywhere, flying, catching fish, trying to steal each others' fish.  We watched them for a long time, before moving further down the beach, where we could see a large roped-off square, which was the Skimmers' nesting area.  



royal terns having a fish fight



I'd never seen either Tern or Skimmer chicks before, and I could watch them forever.  The tern chicks were in the fledged stage, not in the least bit fluffy, and looking like small adults.  Some of the Black Skimmer chicks,  though, were downy things, sand-speckled fluff camouflaged in the sand.  Quite a few were still hanging out with their parents, but one little Skimmer bravely ran across the sand with its wings spread.  It was too small to fly, but old enough to start practicing.  Just about the sweetest moment for me was an adult and two chicks lined up, all with their beaks open.  I don't know what they were talking about, but it made us laugh all the same.



skimmer shout out

I guess some Skimmers don't read very well, because there were a few who'd built their nests outside the roped-off area.  Beach-goers were respectful of the Skimmers' space, many stopping to look, and the skimmers were cautious, but not so scared they weren't acting normally.  It was a hub of activity inside the nesting area, with adults and chicks moving around, little chicks exploring, or burrowing under a parent.  I love nesting season, watching how parents and chicks interact, and imagining what they're saying when they call to each other, or what they're thinking as they move across their world. In this instance, I imagine they were talking about how hot it was, and what a good idea it would be to find some shade.  After a few hours of birdwatching, I felt the same, but look forward to another summer of babies!  And another trip to Sand Key Park, which, by the way, is a nesting area for sea turtles.  But that's another story.





black skimmer with chick





Fort De Soto & Egmont Key

White Ibis

I'll come right out and say it: I  love Fort De Soto and Egmont Key. Given the opportunity, I'd wander both places for as long as possible, never tiring of either one. Fort De Soto is huge. It consists of 5 interconnected keys, and is the largest park in the Pinellas County system. Egmont Key is much smaller, just 400 acres, and accessible only by ferry or private boat. I hadn't been to Fort De Soto in years and years, and couldn't really remember much more than the fort. I'd never been to Egmont Key, so this visit was very much a treat. The Way Eye See It Photography was also on a mission. Anna and I wanted to see the long-billed curlew PinellasBirds.com had reported seeing at Fort De Soto. We were also hoping to see a magnificent frigatebird, but the curlew was our ultimate goal.

Ferry arriving at Egmont Key

A few days beforehand, I tried figuring out Hubbard's Marina's  online ferry schedule to Egmont Key, without much success, so, when we headed to Fort De Soto, we weren't sure if we'd be making the trip to Egmont Key. We weren't too worried about it, though, because we sometimes get so absorbed wherever we are, we lose track of time. In this case, we stopped along the way to Fort De Soto's main entrance to check out some osprey in trees around a lake, and ended up watching a monk parakeet pop in and out of hole in the trunk of a palm tree. When the parakeet disappeared into its hole, we got back in the car and motored up to the main dock. We were surprised the ferry was not only in service, but set to depart within minutes. The ferry captain generously offered to wait while we ran back to the car for our camera equipment.

Twenty bucks later, we were on our way to Egmont Key, and it's a beautiful ride. One thing the ferry captain stressed along the way was how Egmont Key is a wildlife preserve, that birds were nesting on the south end of the island, and that gopher tortoises are plentiful, but not to be touched. Egmont Key is also home to Fort Dade, which served as a camp for captured Seminoles at the end of the Third Seminole War, as well as a circa 1858 lighthouse. Anna loves lighthouses, and this one is really cool.

Egmont Key Lighthouse

We checked out the fort, walked the beach, watched a mother osprey with her chicks way up high in their nest, and marveled at the view. There weren't as many birds as I'd hoped, and I'd expected to see gopher tortoises all over the place, after what the ferry captain said, but the only one we saw a baby tortoise being carried by a boy, whose parents didn't seem to care. It takes a lot for me to speak out about things, but, in this instance, I couldn't help myself, because I wanted to stick up for the tortoise.

Pathway to the beach on Egmont Key

There aren't any amenities on Egmont Key, no places to eat and no restrooms. We brought snacks, and, as for the bathroom, if you don't mind peeing al fresco, the water's warm, and there's a great view of the Sunshine Skyway!

The ferry ride back to Fort De Soto was just as fun as the one to Egmont, even better, actually, because we saw dolphins. Back on dry land, Anna and I started figuring out where it would be best to start our hunt for the long-billed curlew. Fort De Soto has several beaches, and we had no idea on which the curlew had been seen. We eventually decided to start from North Beach.

Only we didn't realize how big North Beach is.  As we walked through a small pine tree shaded area leading to the beach, we were stopped by a woman, obviously a birder, with binoculars and a field guide in the pocket of her dress, who asked us if we'd seen the long-billed curlew.  She told us she'd driven all the way from Miami to find it! She'd seen magnificent frigatebirds on her drive to the west coast, which made us jealous, since we'd seen zero, but we were honest and said we had no idea where the curlew was.

North Beach was packed. Bodies, umbrellas, towels, empty flip-flops, the smell of suntan lotion in the air. We stopped to check out a little pond, hoping every bird we saw in the distance was a curlew, but of course they were white egrets, blue herons, white ibis - all wonderful birds, but not the curlew. We were just getting back to our discussion on where to start looking, when the universe sent a sign: a photographer, decked out in camo, with a camera and zoom lens around his neck, and a camera with even bigger zoom on a tripod on his shoulder. I pointed him out to Anna, and knew he'd lead us to the curlew.

Gangsta-looking Terns

It must've looked funny, if anyone even noticed, a camo-clad photographer (why camo on the beach?) being followed at a respectful distance by Anna and me with cameras, zoom, and monopod. When the photographer stopped and set up his tripod, we stopped, too.  We were next to an roped-off area for  nesting wilson's plovers, and on the sand and water's edge were many short-billed dowatchers, godwits, american oystercatchers, black bellied plovers, and gangsta-looking terns.

We didn't see it at first, because it was surrounded by dowitchers, but there, in the sea grass, was the long-billed curlew.  Wow. They're definitely unusual birds, a little awkward-looking with such a long bill, but very beautiful. It preened and preened, lifting its wings, poking at its belly with that long bill, ruffling its feathers. I took shot after shot, not knowing when it would leave. Eventually, it walked away, putting its bill to use by moving a few other birds aside, then it hopped, went airborne, and landed in front of us on the beach, giving us a perfectly unobstructed view of its magnificent self. A few minutes later, it lifted its wings and flew away.

I don't know if I'll ever see a long-billed curlew again, but it's ok if I don't. Seeing one once makes me deliriously happy, and that's enough for me.

Long-Billed Curlew

Boyd Hill Nature Preserve

Boyd Hill Nature Preserve is a jewel. Located on the south shores of Lake Maggiore, Boyd Hill is another St. Petersburg park hidden in a residential area. There are 245 acres of unspoiled Florida, and entering this oasis feels as though you've stepped back in time, before Pinellas County's population explosion. In much need of time away from that population, and craving the type of regeneration only nature can provide, Anna and I set off to see what what we could see.

Boyd Hill has 5 unique ecosystems (hardwood hammock, sand pine scrub, pine flatwoods, willow marsh, and lake shore), but we've never covered them all at once. My tendency is to drift towards the shoreline, and, since we'd covered some of the pine flatwood trail on previous visits, we decided to walk towards Lake Maggiore.

Along the way, we crossed some short bridges, and came across lots of cypress knees looking like primeval fingers reaching up from the earth. Crossing one of the bridges we spied a little gator snoozing on a lily pad. They sure are a lot less intimidating when they look small and the lily pad looks big!

Back on the trail, we heard a hawk in the pines. We followed its calls, and saw it swoop to the ground. Next we heard what sounded like a squirrel in distress, and I have to admit I was relieved that squirrel hadn't become the hawk's lunch. I know how the food chain operates, but I don't really want to witness it.

There's a small peninsula jutting into Lake Maggiore, and we'd read that's where birds hang out, so we headed up the trail to find it. Just over another short bridge, it's a bird oasis. Anhingas and Cormorants filled nearby trees, ducks splashed in the lake, terns flew overhead. A family of (presumed) tourists approached us, asking if we'd seen the alligator just behind some brush, then proceeded to get way too close to it in order to show us. Anna waked off with a "Oh, hell no!" but I wanted some shots, although with my zoom, I felt safe. Well, fairly safe....

It wasn't until we'd crossed back from the peninsula to the main trail that it occurred to us: what would we have done if that alligator decided to come out from the brush? Especially if it had blocked access to the bridge. Hmmm.

Our return trip to the nature center was fairly uneventful, although there was one highlight: a banana tree blossom, deep purple and sexy. I love how in Florida there's always the possibility of running into something unexpected and exotic.

We had a great day at Boyd Hill, and, once again, the universe confirmed we're on the right path. How do I know? As we walked across the parking lot, talking about the wonderful things we'd seen, a bald eagle flew by.

Sawgrass Lake Park

For a city the size of St. Petersburg, FL, and for the number of people living in St. Petersburg, there's a great selection of natural places to roam. One of them is Sawgrass Lake Park, 400 acres of glorious open space hidden in a residential neighborhood. I'd heard it's a great park, but had yet to make it there. It was time for The Way Eye See it to load up our camera equipment and check it out.

Unfortunately, lots of other people had the same idea, which is part of tourist season in FL. Still, we peservered, because, from the moment we parked and looked around, we knew this place had promise. From the entrance, you can either go to the left, across a boardwalk and beyond, or to the right, following a sidewalk. I didn't have to decide, because I spotted a Red Admiral flitting around close to the water, and I have a particular weakness for butterflies, especially ones I've never seen. Several blurry pictures later, the Red Admiral flew out of my range, and we decided to hit the boardwalk.

One of the things I love most about Florida parks is you never know what's lurking in the water, around the corner, behind a tree .... People on the footbridge crossing to the boardwalk were pointing at something, so we had to stop and look, too. First was a huge turtle, feet stretched, eyes closed, looking very self-satisfied, sunning itself on a rock. Beautiful yellow water lily buds were everywhere. There was also a "teen" alligator nosing around in the plantlife. I love watching alligators, especially younger ones, because, even though they're small, there's still something ancient and mysterious and powerful about them.

After the bridge, there's a fork in the boardwalk, and we chose the side less traveled. Sawgrass Lake is home to one of the largest maple swamps on the FL Gulf Coast, and there's not much more peaceful than walking among trees. But, since we didn't know how far this path lead, and it was getting late in the afternoon, we decided to turn around and try out the other path. I'd hoped this one would follow the water, and was happy it did. For as peaceful as trees are, even better for my spirit is the tree/water combo.

One of the nice things about this boardwalk is there are several covered lookouts with benches, so you can get out of the sun and hang out over the water. At Sawgrass, though, be sure not to hang out so far you fall in! The water was full of teensy busy gators, motoring from one place to another, eating and doing whatever it is baby alligators do. We enjoyed watching them so much, we forgot even to consider mama might be around, until we spotted her on the bank. She was huge! It's funny to think those tiny gators will someday be her size, although for all their cuteness, they do have that gator badassness about them.



It was hard to leave those little gators, they were so entertaining, but we wanted to check out the observation tower before we left. Even though we weren't sure exactly where it was, we figured we were were going in the right direction from the noise everyone else was making. I'm not begrudging people a sunny spring day out, especially if they've come from Northern climes, and are spending their money in FL, but it's annoying to me, seeking not only some peace and quiet, but bird-watching opportunities.



Luckily, waterbirds seem less affected by noise than smaller birds, of which we saw few (only one, in fact, a catbird hopping along the boardwalk railing). A grumpy-looking green heron searched for food along the shore near the observation tower, and a female anhinga was letting her presence be known with loud honks. She then dove into the water, and, when she came up, was buoyed by her feathers, which was really cool, and something I've never seen before. Several turtles bobbed in the water, and, in the distance, a big alligator cruised by. It was definitely worthwhile braving the crowds.

Sawgrass is mentioned by both the Audubon Society and The Great Florida Birding Trail as one of Florida's premier birding sights, and I believe it. Although the birding wasn't amazing this time around, I can't wait for fall, so we can go back and see what feathered tourists have come to visit.

A Two Parks a Day Habit

For her birthday, my friend and photo buddy, Anna (bird watcher and the business brain behind The Way Eye See It Photography), wanted to celebrate with a day at Brooker Creek Nature Preserve in Tarpon Springs. We met early in the morning, anticipating what birds we might spot, and hoping to see Swallow-tailed Kites, but the park was closed when we arrived. We stared at the locked gate, as though the power of our desire would make it magically unlock, and, when it didn't, we sat, contemplating our next move.

John Chestnut Sr Park is, fortunately, only a short drive from Brooker Creek, and we headed there, with no expectations, since we've had hit & miss photo ops on previous visits. We wanted to stop first at the butterfly garden, but got diverted by the loud pounding noises of a Pileated Woodpecker looking for food. It's not easy, despite their bright red heads, to spot pileateds among tall oak branches, and when we did, it flew away. I've yet to get a decent shot of a pileated, but I love watching them, and they're always a goal to look forward to. Alligators are common at John Chestnut, and I wanted to see one surface from an algae-covered pond, but no such luck there, either. We did spot a Blue Heron, though, and its color, combined with the algae, was spectacular.

Not to be deterred from our original birthday plan, Anna and I drove back to Brooker Creek a few days later, and wandered a few trails, followed some butterflies, got a split-second view of a Red-shouldered Hawk, and swatted mosquitoes. Early on, we could tell it was going to be the sort of day where patience might or might not pay off. We finally lucked out on the exit trail, when both a Palimedes Swallowtail and an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, a new butterfly for us, landed and fed on close-by plants. Butterflies are among my most difficult, but favorite, photo challenges. Swallow-tailed Kites are an even more elusive challenge. We'd seen one once at Brooker Creek, and wanted to see one again, but it didn't feel like we would on this trip. So, we packed up our gear, making plans to hit John Chestnut Park next. Anna and I are shameless gawkers, constantly on the look-out for wildlife, and when, on the drive out, Anna spotted Gulf Fritillaries on daisies, we couldn't pass them up. But we had to, because there was a car behind us. So we drove the park's entry/exit loop again, hoping the butterflies hadn't zipped away, and this time pulled over. Not only was I rewarded with butterfly shots, we were shocked when first one, then another, Swallow-tailed Kite swooped over our heads. The first kite flew so close, it practically touched the hood of the car, and I was so surprised, all I could do was watch. Both kites sailed high in the sky above us for a few minutes, before disappearing behind a line of trees.

That's what I love about nature: the magic and the gifts. In my experience, there's a mystical element to nature, which I can't explain, but magical moments, like the Swallow-tailed Kites, almost always happen. Sometimes I have my camera handy, and sometimes I don't. And sometimes I have my camera handy, but am too caught up in the moment, or too surprised, to even think about using it. I don't mind if I don't get the shot; I'm just grateful to receive the gift.

When I'm in the zone, though, concentrating on a subject, there's nothing that compares. Later that afternoon, at John Chestnut, we followed the sound of a Red-shouldered Hawk calling. When we found it, we were able to watch it/photograph it for several minutes. The hawk sat on its oak branch, I stood below it, and it's as though we were connected by some invisible thread. It definitely knew I was there, because it looked right at me, and I stood as still as possible to let it know I wasn't a threat. In moments like this, when I'm connected to an animal, it feels like I'm in a bubble, and nothing exists outside it. These moments fade as abruptly as they occur, and I can always feel when the moment is over. The imaginary thread breaks, the bubble bursts, and I hear the noises of everyday life again.

I've never felt complete in anything I've ever done until I started taking photography seriously. I've always loved being in nature, and the combination is what makes me whole. In The Power of Myth, Joseph Campbell talks about "the peak experience." He explains it as "actual moments of your life when you experience your relationship to the harmony of being." Campbell's peak experiences came when he ran track. My peak experiences happen, camera ready (or not), in nature.

That's why I'll never give up my two parks a day habit.