On my second trip to Florida this past February, I decided to be adventurous and do something a bit out of the ordinary with "M". While we greatly enjoyed bird-watching on the Gulf, collecting crustaceans, and recollecting flight tales, I knew that "M" missed her Northeastern environment and wanted to take her somewhere a bit more woodsy.
After pouring over piles of Gulf Coast Tourist Magazines, I stumbled across a brochure for a not-so-well known environmental center not far from "M"s home. Perfect! The park was not only handicap accessible, as "M" needed a cane and sometimes a walker for mobility, but it's wooden walkways were well constructed for elderly visitors. And let's face it, sand, stones, and broken bits of seashells are difficult to walk on even for a young person!
The morning of the planned outing, I asked "M" if she would like to go on a picnic in the woods. Her eyes sparkled as she exclaimed eagerly, "What fun! Can we go now?" I told her that as soon as I packed up the lunches, and loaded the necessary gear into the car, we would be off on our adventure.
The Environmental Center was a bit difficult to find, as it was tucked behind a residential neighborhood in a rather unsavory looking part of the area. As I drove around in circles looking for any sign to the park's entrance, I began to have some second thoughts about this particular excursion.
As I drove through the front entrance, however, I knew it was just the right place for "M" and me. The parking lot was not very crowded, the signs were interesting and quite welcoming, and the place had a Visitor's Center, which meant that it most likely had an up and running plumbing system. When traveling with the elderly (or anyone with a weak bladder, like myself), it is always critical to know how easy the restrooms are to locate and access. Generally on our outings together, I was the one who always needed to use the facility before "M".
I paid the admission fee, and was given a walking tour guide to the park. There were many rustic paths that one could meander on at their own pace, but I figured it would be wise to stick with the main trail that had wooden planked walkways, strategically placed benches, and occasional handrails. I had no idea what to expect as we embarked on our stroll, but I was heartened by "M"s enthusiasm to explore.
The park's environment was indeed woodsy, and the trail was lined with giant, mossy mammoths. Although they were quite different in appearance form the evergreens that distinguished "M"s beloved Northeastern "Woods," they were still very large and impressive trees. Shortly into our stroll, "M" started picking up speed and ditched the walker (which I then had to carry, along with our lunches). Her energy level picked up dramatically, and I was the one that had a hard time keeping up with her pace!
Then she uttered the phrase that I had inwardly hoped she would. "This reminds me exactly of The Woods!" Success! Although well over a thousand miles south of her beloved Adirondack camp, "M" was nonetheless reminded of the joyous times she had spent with her family in that magically serene setting. And along with that, the wonderful stories began to unfold again.
One story I didn't expect had absolutely nothing to do with "The Woods" and was actually about "M"s childhood. For one year of her youth, "M" lived with her grandparents on the Gulf Coast. Her grandfather, an inventor, liked his privacy, and his home was isolated on a then unpopulated and purely natural key south of what is now St. Petersburg. In fact, this is the same spot that "M" fell in love with airplanes.
"M" recalled a time when she took one of her Grandfather's small canoes out for a paddle through the local marshes. According to "M", her Grandfather had given her strict instructions on being cautious and following all necessary safety protocol. "M" was an obedient young girl, but also an adventurer at heart. She described her journey that day, but ended the tale with a distinguishable note of dismay. Apparently, the memory of the event still haunted her almost eighty years later.
During her journey through the marshes, "M" had apparently gone too far, well past where her Grandfather had cautioned her not to go. The canoe became stuck in the thick tropical growth, and "M" was unable to free it on her own. Eventually, her Grandfather came looking for her, and towed her and her small craft back home. To this day, "M" recalled how her Grandfather "Didn't say a single word" on the return trip, and his silence was an indication that he was quite angry at her. All these years later, "M" still seemed troubled by the fact that she had "disappointed" her Grandfather. It's remarkable what memories stick in our minds like thorns as we age.
It was definitely time to change the subject... and the direction of our stroll. Other visitors, some elderly, were taking this route, so I assumed it would be a good path for us as well. I spotted a sign for a small bridge that went over onto a little island that was supposedly home to hundreds of Cormorants. "M" and I loved watching Cormorants! Usually we would only see one or two at a time, and were always entertained at the way they ducked down into the water in search of their dinner, but would then pop up some place completely unexpected, usually quite a distance from where they had originally dived. I think "M" identified with the birds, as they were both great underwater swimmers!
As we approached the somewhat rickety bridge, I was caught by another sign. It had a picture of a swamp rabbit placed above bold red letters that stated, "DANGER! DO NOT FEED OR MOLEST THE ALLIGATORS!" Okey Dokey. This was a new type of warning for a born and bred New Englander, but I was willing to abide by the rules of my surroundings. I would resist my hidden urges, and NOT molest the alligators!
Luckily, once on the little island, "M" and I found a delightful bench beneath a big, mossy tree. The spot was shady, but not too cool, and we both agreed it was a perfect place for our picnic lunch. Plus it was private. No one else had made their way to that part of the island. In a little while, I would learn why, but for now, "M" and I settled down in our solitary area.
Well... solitary isn't perhaps the best way to describe it. You see, we were seated beneath a very remarkable site. A giant, mossy swamp native that was apparently home to dozens of nesting Cormorants. I had expected to see the beautiful black birds ducking and diving in and out of the water, as usual, but I was not prepared to see so many of the elegant creatures perched atop of a single tree.
"M" was thrilled. I had wisely remembered to pack her glasses among our lunch supplies, so she was able to see the birds from a distance. While "M" munched happily on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (because what is better than that on a picnic?), I wandered out close to the marsh to get a bird's eye (excuse the pun!) view.
It was an awesome sight! Apparently, Cormorants, or at least this particular type of Cormorant (perhaps you will be able to identify it by the photos I will be attaching), used this island as their mating and nesting place. And "M" and I had the good fortune of inadvertently discovering their habitat. I couldn't grab my camera/phone fast enough, eager to get as many shots of the beautiful birds as possible. I also couldn't contain my desire to crawl beneath a bevy of unknown swamp growth to get as close as possible to the action, and I had the scratches to prove it!
Near water's edge, I spotted an even more remarkable sight! A giant, silver statue of a Cormorant! It was very unique in its appearance. I knew "M" would not be able to see it from her vantage point, so I took lots of photographs to show her, all from different angles. The best shot, which I have included in an upcoming page of this blog, is of one of the Cormorants amazingly mimicking the statue! Wings spread wide, there he (or she) hovered, in the exact pose of the shiny replica! Wow!
As I crawled out from the swamp brush to show "M" the pictures, I heard a commotion from a different spot on the little Island. Being little, I did not have far to go to find out what the fuss was all about. I checked in on "M", who was still savoring her sandwich, and hurried over to a group of people that were closely gathered around a different bevy of unknown swamp growth.
"Did you see him?" one man queried. "He's a big one!" another commented. Finally, one of the bolder members of the group gestured us all to a another area of swamp brush, excitedly declaring, "You can see him better from over here!"
I'm not one for crowds, so I decided to wait a little bit until all the hoopla died down before investigating the situation on my own. Sure enough, as each person caught a glimpse of whatever the "big one" was, they quickly scurried away. It wasn't long before the area had emptied out, and I was alone to discover what the excitement had been all about.
Bending over, I looked through a bush to see something I had not expected (although given the big red DANGER sign on the way in, you'd think I would have had some kind of clue!). About ten or twelve feet away from me was a very large alligator. He (or she) was laying by the shore of a swampy area, perfectly still. Not even the blink of an eye.
"Very cool!" I muttered to myself. "Hmmmmm," I wondered next. I bet I could get closer to him if I just got down on the ground and crawled under yet another bevy of unknown swamp growth. And that's exactly what this novice New Englander did. I got a great picture of the giant, and hurried away faster than I thought I could even move. I rushed back to show "M" my miraculous encounter.
Now on her fruit cup and bottle of water, "M" was still staring with wonder and respect at the Cormorant tree. I sat down next to her (with her distance glasses on, she didn't seem to notice the bevy of unknown swamp growth that had gathered in my hair) and showed her my photos. Without the glasses, she could see the images on my camera/phone quite well, because I had the ability to enlarge the pictures with a quick flick of two fingers. The cormorant statue was by far the most impressive to her, as well as the images of the dozens of birds nesting in the treetop. "Have you ever seen such a sight?" she asked, a sense of marvel in her voice?
I thought to myself, "If she likes these pictures, wait until she sees the giant Alligator!" Patiently, I waited for "M" to finish scrolling through the Cormorant shots before I sprung my prize gator photo on her. At first glance, she squinted, saying she couldn't really make out what it was. Fair enough. The camera/phone has a small screen, and her eyes have been around for ninety years. I quickly flicked my two fingers and made the image much larger. I waited for her amazed response, but it never came. Instead, she simply stated, "I've seen plenty of those before, especially when I was a girl staying with my Grandparents."
My overblown ego a bit deflated, we packed up the remnants of our lunch and headed back to the trail. On the way back to the visitor's center, "M" and I again discussed the variety of sights that surrounded us. Again, she was especially fascinated by the massive trees. "Just like the Woods," she repeated several times, the twinkle still in her eye. Back at the Visitor's Center, where I needed to use the restroom instead of "M", she told me that this had been a great deal of fun for her.
I couldn't have been more pleased. It certainly was fun, albeit somewhat dangerous, for me, too. Seeing "M" enjoy the world around her gave me great pleasure. I wondered what other amazing things she had seen in her lifetime, and looked forward to her telling me more stories from her fascinating life.
I left the park with only one question in my mind: Why in the world would I want to molest an Alligator? And even if I did, how in the world would I possibly do it? That fellow, however unimpressive to "M", had VERY impressive teeth. I like a good adventure, but I have my limits.
I hope you enjoy the photographs that will come in my next post! And thank you for sharing my traveling caregiver stories so far.
"M" was thrilled. I had wisely remembered to pack her glasses among our lunch supplies, so she was able to see the birds from a distance. While "M" munched happily on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (because what is better than that on a picnic?), I wandered out close to the marsh to get a bird's eye (excuse the pun!) view.
It was an awesome sight! Apparently, Cormorants, or at least this particular type of Cormorant (perhaps you will be able to identify it by the photos I will be attaching), used this island as their mating and nesting place. And "M" and I had the good fortune of inadvertently discovering their habitat. I couldn't grab my camera/phone fast enough, eager to get as many shots of the beautiful birds as possible. I also couldn't contain my desire to crawl beneath a bevy of unknown swamp growth to get as close as possible to the action, and I had the scratches to prove it!
Near water's edge, I spotted an even more remarkable sight! A giant, silver statue of a Cormorant! It was very unique in its appearance. I knew "M" would not be able to see it from her vantage point, so I took lots of photographs to show her, all from different angles. The best shot, which I have included in an upcoming page of this blog, is of one of the Cormorants amazingly mimicking the statue! Wings spread wide, there he (or she) hovered, in the exact pose of the shiny replica! Wow!
As I crawled out from the swamp brush to show "M" the pictures, I heard a commotion from a different spot on the little Island. Being little, I did not have far to go to find out what the fuss was all about. I checked in on "M", who was still savoring her sandwich, and hurried over to a group of people that were closely gathered around a different bevy of unknown swamp growth.
"Did you see him?" one man queried. "He's a big one!" another commented. Finally, one of the bolder members of the group gestured us all to a another area of swamp brush, excitedly declaring, "You can see him better from over here!"
I'm not one for crowds, so I decided to wait a little bit until all the hoopla died down before investigating the situation on my own. Sure enough, as each person caught a glimpse of whatever the "big one" was, they quickly scurried away. It wasn't long before the area had emptied out, and I was alone to discover what the excitement had been all about.
Bending over, I looked through a bush to see something I had not expected (although given the big red DANGER sign on the way in, you'd think I would have had some kind of clue!). About ten or twelve feet away from me was a very large alligator. He (or she) was laying by the shore of a swampy area, perfectly still. Not even the blink of an eye.
"Very cool!" I muttered to myself. "Hmmmmm," I wondered next. I bet I could get closer to him if I just got down on the ground and crawled under yet another bevy of unknown swamp growth. And that's exactly what this novice New Englander did. I got a great picture of the giant, and hurried away faster than I thought I could even move. I rushed back to show "M" my miraculous encounter.
Now on her fruit cup and bottle of water, "M" was still staring with wonder and respect at the Cormorant tree. I sat down next to her (with her distance glasses on, she didn't seem to notice the bevy of unknown swamp growth that had gathered in my hair) and showed her my photos. Without the glasses, she could see the images on my camera/phone quite well, because I had the ability to enlarge the pictures with a quick flick of two fingers. The cormorant statue was by far the most impressive to her, as well as the images of the dozens of birds nesting in the treetop. "Have you ever seen such a sight?" she asked, a sense of marvel in her voice?
I thought to myself, "If she likes these pictures, wait until she sees the giant Alligator!" Patiently, I waited for "M" to finish scrolling through the Cormorant shots before I sprung my prize gator photo on her. At first glance, she squinted, saying she couldn't really make out what it was. Fair enough. The camera/phone has a small screen, and her eyes have been around for ninety years. I quickly flicked my two fingers and made the image much larger. I waited for her amazed response, but it never came. Instead, she simply stated, "I've seen plenty of those before, especially when I was a girl staying with my Grandparents."
My overblown ego a bit deflated, we packed up the remnants of our lunch and headed back to the trail. On the way back to the visitor's center, "M" and I again discussed the variety of sights that surrounded us. Again, she was especially fascinated by the massive trees. "Just like the Woods," she repeated several times, the twinkle still in her eye. Back at the Visitor's Center, where I needed to use the restroom instead of "M", she told me that this had been a great deal of fun for her.
I couldn't have been more pleased. It certainly was fun, albeit somewhat dangerous, for me, too. Seeing "M" enjoy the world around her gave me great pleasure. I wondered what other amazing things she had seen in her lifetime, and looked forward to her telling me more stories from her fascinating life.
I left the park with only one question in my mind: Why in the world would I want to molest an Alligator? And even if I did, how in the world would I possibly do it? That fellow, however unimpressive to "M", had VERY impressive teeth. I like a good adventure, but I have my limits.
I hope you enjoy the photographs that will come in my next post! And thank you for sharing my traveling caregiver stories so far.
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