It is a cold and blustery morning with the intense sunshine that always seems to follow a storm. Yesterdays storm left the boardwalk littered with sticks, leaves, nuts, chunks of Resurrection Fern, Crane Fly Orchid and an assortment of cones. Items often out of sight in the tall canopy of this ancient forest.
I became immediately aware of two changes since my last visit: the intense Silence except for the sound of wind through the canopy whose song and pitch changed depending on the presence of bare limbs, leaves or needles. It was a very ethereal experience. The other change was the depth of the water reaching almost to the Center, Dwarf Palmetto fronds partially or totally submerged everywhere except on the tallest hummocks or where the land begins to ascend towards the back of the Center.
In the more open areas the water moved swiftly. Many of the landmarks I normally look for were submerged or up to their necks. What was interesting was the only place I noticed any sign of water washing over the boardwalk was at the beginning of the spur - almost to the end and the lake - that goes off to the right where the Barred Owl often perches on a branch and a Brown Water Snake hangs out at the end. Definitely not basking in the sunlight today!!
But the Lichens are. Lichens are a composite organism “that arise from algae or cyanobacteria living among filaments of multiple fungi species in a mutualistic relationship” (Wikipedia). They require only light and moisture, both of which they have in abundance today. Yesterday’s rain seems to have intensified their beautiful colors and forms.
There was a third surprise: the disappearance of the second story to the viewing platform at the lake’s edge. After the initial first few seconds of surprise I realized I liked it better. I could see up and down the water channel more clearly and the sunlight was very pleasant. I stood for a moment enjoying the change and searched for beavers, as I had done all they way out. They have been seen frequently recently, but I have had no luck. Maybe next time. And isn’t this what keeps us coming back? Always the chance of encountering another beloved creature?
On the back side of the boardwalk a young woman was watching something very intently through her binoculars. I asked her what she had found - a Golden Crowned Kinglet - very low in a tree close to the boardwalk railing. So it seems the birds are here, down low because of the intense wind above, and silent. They do always seem to know how to take care of themselves if given half a chance.
Which led me to wondering if the two deer I had startled a month or so ago would be able to run through the deep, swiftly moving water the way they had back then. And with essentially every hummock under water there didn’t seem to be any dry spaces for resting deep in the safety of the Swamp.
