Today was our last day and hotels now kick you out earlier and earlier.  So we researched an activity that would help us pass some time in a worthwhile manner before waiting at the airport for our flight home.  It turns out there was a National Audubon Society sanctuary close by.  It was established to protect one of the largest remaining stands of bald cypress and pond cypress in North America.  We parked our car at the Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary and were thrilled to discover there was a boardwalk extending two and a half miles over pine flatwoods, wet prairie, and march ecosystems in addition to the magnificent cypress — some of which were around 600 years old.  We learned the sanctuary is a “gateway” for the Great Florida Birding Trail and is an important breeding area for the endangered wood stork as well as other wetland fowl.  We saw all kinds of birds wading in the swampy water:  several species of herons and egrets casually mingling with unseen American alligators and cottonmouth snakes.  It occurred to me that the boardwalk allowed for parents with strollers but also for folks in wheelchairs, so everyone could enjoy it.  Of course being elevated above the swamp was also essential; I am content to see Mr. Alligator from a discreet distance, thank you very much.  Our visit to the sanctuary was a journey into the heart of the Everglades ecosystem.  Its other inhabitants are said to include otters, white-tailed deer, and red-bellied turtles.  Between the wading birds, the songbirds, the raptors, and the beautiful Painted Bunting it was a bird lover’s paradise and photographer’s delight.  The natural biological systems expand over 14,000 acres.  Botanically, the most intriguing plant we discovered was the Ghost Orchid.  Apparently it only blooms several months a year (so we were lucky.)  It has gained attention worldwide as the largest Ghost Orchid ever discovered.  We found it (thanks to signage) about 50 feet up in an old growth bald cypress tree and, once the bud opens, it remains in bloom for one to two weeks.  Going around despite the humidity I was able to let go and not feel rushed.  The Irish actor Pierce Brosnan said, “My family is my sanctuary.”  I am so grateful and so blessed to have my own precious family.  Standing there enjoying the serenity of nature’s age-old beauty with them I realized I did not feel so swamped.

Well I should have known my little one would become enamored with the beach, given the surroundings that we had.  As far as the eye could see it was dark blue sky and stark white sand.  This year we got fortuitously upgraded and our hotel room overlooked the sea.  When our little one woke up she made her way to the window and started pressing her little hands against the glass, eager to feel the froth of the tides underneath her tiny toes.  As I prepared to slather us up for a day at the beach the hubs asked if he could be released to go visit historical places.  “Sure,” I said, “I’m not the vacation police.”  And so, after a delightful buffet breakfast of soft scrambled eggs, grits smothered with Tabasco sauce, and stoneground oatmeal heavily powdered with brown sugar, the baby and I made our way back down to the beach.  Burk departed off on his own adventure.  I could never understand why people thought she was a boy until I revisited this picture.  I was essentially bald until I was three and so was she.  Only my red-headed mother became IRATE whenever someone called me a boy.  Apparently she dressed me all in pink with ruffles and they still thought I was a boy.  It had never bothered me why some well-meaning person thought my baby was a boy until about this time.  Looking back, I can sort of understand why they still did.  Nevertheless, my little one and I passed a delightful early afternoon floating on the alligator raft which some older boy wanted but the cute cabana boys gave to my girl.  After a few hours along came my beloved, looking awkward with his swimsuit and rumpled newspaper, wanting to join us.  Of course we were delighted!  We all had lunch at the hotel beachside cafe located up several layers of wooden floating steps.  I had a veggie burger, the hubs had a hamburger, and our little one had applesauce.  It was the first time she’d ever had it and — wait for it — she remembers it to this day!  When I told her this year we would be going back to Naples (after a two year hiatus) the first thing she asked was if she could have applesauce.  WOW.  The American chef Homaro Cantu said:

“Most of us have fond memories of food from our childhood.  Whether it was our mom’s homemade lasagna or a memorable chocolate birthday cake, food has a way of transporting us back to the past.”

I thought it was crazy that my little one associated applesauce with the beach.  But nevertheless she did.  And I was so grateful to associate the beach with my baby.

This day would mark our second year in a row to return to Sanibel Island.  Our first priority was to collect seashells.  It just occurred to me that THIS is the only type of hunting which I support.  This year I’d bought us net bags that could be slipped on and worn while wading through the water.  They were designed so that the shells remain but the sand goes right through the mesh enclosure.  Among my under the sea discoveries was a pen shell.  It still had its occupant residing in it so I returned it to its rightful home.  The more I researched different types of shells the more fascinated I became … and the more ignorant I realized I was.  Next we visited the J.N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge where I got to hold a sea star (formally known as a starfish.)  Established in 1976, it contains 5200 acres as part of the United States National Wildlife Refuge system, named for the cartoonist Jay Norwood “Ding” Darling.  Protecting one of the country’s largest undeveloped mangrove ecosystems, the refuge is well known for its migratory bird populations.  I took a picture of this guy, a local I’m guessing, as we made our way onto the boat that would take us around the wildlife sanctuary.  I just loved him; he reminded me of a dignified butler allowing us passage into a grand estate from sometime long ago.  During our boat ride we had the joy of seeing a pair of dolphins frolicking and playing for quite awhile alongside us.  It’s like they knew they were safe and rose from the water to be seen without fear.  What a thrill.  The captain, who conducts daily excursions, even said this was a rare treat.  There are over 245 different species of birds here.  It is a refuge to turtles, amphibians, fish, and invertebrates.  This was the sanctity of nature at its finest.  Mammals ranging from manatees to raccoons also inhabit the island.  The place was established to help protect endangered and threatened species.  Located within an estuary, it creates some of the most nutritionally rich habitat for these thousands of species of plants and animals which call this refuge home.  The mangrove forests and the seagrass beds provide the basis of their intricate food web.  Jim Fowler, the American zoologist and host of the Emmy Award-winning television show “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom” said, “The continued existence of wildlife and wilderness is important to the quality of life of humans.”  For me, wildlife and wilderness for their own sake remain reason enough for going wild.

Until this day, my husband and I were one of those couples that went hard on vacation.  By that I mean we didn’t waste any time or not plan things out.  I think he had not often really relaxed very well, and I have had a perpetual sense of urgency to try and see and do it all since I had not had the privilege of traveling extensively until we met.  Before Florida I had not been a beach person so I never found a ton of appeal in just sitting there reading a book.  I LOVE to read and relax when I can, but either in bed with air-conditioning or snuggled up on the sofa next to the fireplace.  I have passed the stage in my life where I can just “lay out” and frankly rough ocean waves scare me.  Asking my husband to relax is like trying to calm a squirrel on crack.  Suffice it to say, he’s not a lounger.  But it was not just us anymore or even us with a tiny little baby who would simply go wherever we brought her.  Our little one was a toddler now and longing to play in sand.  I asked my husband if we could REALLY spend some time at the beach.  Like, heaven forbid, more than an hour.  I could actually hear him grinding his teeth and inwardly cringed.  Finally he relented and said he supposed we could could go down for awhile.  I could practically see his mind whirling with all the random historical places we had not yet visited.  He also detests sunscreen and generally eschews any form of it.  Getting ready I tried to tell him about all the things we would do the next day, hoping that would hold him.  The three minute ride on the back of the golf cart over the estuary and through the mangrove trees was absolute heaven.  We reached our stop and visited the cabana stocked with the requisite amount of cute young men who immediately gave our little one the alligator raft she was attempting to reach.  I knew then she was going to be a conqueror of many hearts … what young guys really like babies?  So we rented two beach chairs and an umbrella and started unloading our provisions.  We had cold water, snacks, sunscreen, bug spray (I learned quickly after the “no-see-um” incident from the night before,) sunglasses, molds for sand castles, and Burk’s sacrosanct, ever-present rumpled newspaper.  Our little one was already trying to get in the water.  I thought again how fitting it was that her name in Latin means “of the sea.”  Daddy actually got into the spirit of things and entertained our baby girl by going upside down under water and sticking his feet in the air.  This earned him unbridled shrieks of sheer delight.  Firmly entranced under her mermaid spell, she would clap her little hands together and splash, prompting him to go back under and do it again.  As for me, I was content to listen to the lull of the ocean waves and watch my little family.  At some point during our time, my shell hunting exploration uncovered a surprising discovery.  Apparently one of them was still occupied.  At first I sort of freaked out until it slowly made its way out of its shell and I realized it must be a sea snail.  Of course I had never encountered one before but I DID know a snail when I saw it.  I sat in my beach chair shaded by our big umbrella and contemplated the gentle creature in my hand.  She didn’t seem afraid and so I held her and studied her for awhile.  I also did not believe her being out of the water for such a brief time caused her any duress.  The Russian writer Ivan Turgenev said:

“Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but a man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly.”

I gazed up and saw the birds soaring swiftly overhead and then looked down in my hand at this treasure from the sea which I knew I could not keep.  Of course I had to get her picture before I returned her to her ocean home.  And I realized, it is OK when time flies like a bird — but for me, I would prefer a slow savoring of the joy and happiness and have it linger … at a snail’s pace.