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“All that water looks really shallow but if you wade out in it you would probably completely disappear in the soft mud.”
I’m still trying to work out if Gini was being scientific or making a suggestion.
Indeed, the average depth of the water throughout this portion of Merritt Island National Wildlife Preserve is from six to ten inches. There are a few deeper potholes where diving ducks can sometimes be found. The shallow water, abundant grass, replacement of nutrients and other food by tidal activity – it’s no wonder so many birds are attracted to this area.
We have reached the half-way mark in our excursion around seven-mile Black Point Wildlife Drive. It is now about 0900, the wind has calmed a bit and the temperature has climbed to about 60 F/16 C. Wading birds seem to be everywhere. Flocks of ducks, pelicans, ibises and spoonbills criss-cross the sky. These kids have met their candy store.
To give you an idea of the numbers of birds enjoying this small portion of the 140,000 acre refuge, expert birders report on that day they saw: 200 Blue-winged Teal, 120 Ring-necked Duck, 250 Lesser Scaup, 75 Northern Shoveler, 80 Northern Pintail, 1000 American Coot, 450 Common Gallinule, 75 Pied-billed Grebe, small numbers of Hooded Merganser, Gadwall, Mottled Duck and Ruddy Duck. The variety of additonal birds was also incredible. The average number of species reported for that day was over 50.
Other areas of the refuge had even larger numbers of some duck and wader species but overall less diversity. This does not even take into consideration the song birds in the woods nor shorebirds and pelagic species on and near the beach.
The next couple of miles were filled with pink and white. The final portion of the wildlife drive begins to blend marsh and upland pine woods. Things to see and enjoy were almost overwhelming. Almost.
It’s easy to understand how the Northern Shoveler received its name. The male has spectacular plumage.

We couldn’t convince any of the male Hooded Mergansers to show off their dazzling white crests. That’s okay. He’s still quite handsome.

All around the marsh are small hammocks among the mangroves, typically including cabbage palms, slash pines and wax myrtles.

Pink warning. We saw over three dozen Roseate Spoonbills during the morning. Unique birds.






On the far shore of a pool we watched a large group of waders feeding. Included were: Roseate Spoonbill, White Ibis, Wood Stork, Great Egret, Little Blue Heron, Tricolored Heron, American White Pelican and Snowy Egret. A fly by of a Bald Eagle caused a sudden evacuation.


Unlike their Brown Pelican cousins, who dive from the air in pursuit of prey, American White Pelicans often hunt cooperatively. They form a line or circle, flap their wings to herd fish into shallow water and then scoop up a meal. Contrary to popular belief, they do not scoop up a fish and fly to a perch with it, but rather consume it as it’s caught.


Wood Storks march down a canal, stirring the mud bottom with a foot and snatching anything that moves.

Occasional flowers provide a colorful relief to the brown and green of the marsh. Here’s another Indian Blanket (Gaillardia pulchella). We don’t often see a bloom which is mostly yellow.

Potholes, marsh grasses, hammocks – lots of tracks in the mud confirm this is Wild Pig habitat. In the past, we have seen quite a few of the critters in this spot.

Not many predators will challenge a full grown wild pig. Oh, here are a couple who will. American Alligator. The marsh is their happy place. Watch your step.

Even on a winter’s day, Florida offers a few insects for our viewing pleasure. A bright Gulf Fritillary (Agraulis vanillae) was as happy as we were to find blooming Indian Blanket.

As we neared the final portion of the wildlife drive, a Tricolored Heron plying the shallow waters around the mangroves offered a fitting farewell.

It has been an outstanding morning in the marsh. Birds everywhere, alligators, scenic beauty, butterflies. What more could we ask? We have worked up an appetite. Coming Next: Picnic Launch.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit.

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In the near-dark, Common Gallinules were gabbling and the calls of distant gulls confirmed we were near the coast. Weather reporters, excuse me, nowadays they prefer to be known as “Climate Experts”, advised it would be chilly and nearly calm this morning. “Chilly” to a native Floridian is below 70 F/21 C. The prediction of 42 F/5.5 C was accurate. The wind was ripping at 15-20 MPH. Not “calm”. Result = Cold Couple.
Gini and I made the cross-state drive to visit Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge (MINWR)* in the hopes of seeing a few migratory birds and to enjoy the diverse habitat found within this very special place. Thanks to Gini’s prowess in smashing alarm clocks, we were able to sneak by the Land of the Mouse and the neighboring neon lights of Orlando’s associated venues designed to attract tourists as so many moths to the flames of eternal entertainment. (Why are all those lights burning at 0500?) There was plenty of traffic, but it was headed into Orlando as we were exiting the metropolitan morass.
Our trip occurred on January 30, 2024. It’s hard to believe we’re finished with the first month of our brand new year.
MINWR was established in the early 1960’s from land which had been acquired to support the mission of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). As development of the Cape Canaveral launch complex proceeded, the southern portion of the area was set aside for a wildlife refuge. Today, more than 140,000 acres is managed for the protection of a myriad of natural resources. It’s a great place to visit any time of year but the vast amount of marsh, fresh and salt water as well as beach front is especially attractive to migrating waterfowl.
Sunrise. Just prior to dawn, the eastern sky displays an amazing variety of subtle hues. As the sun breaks above the horizon, its amazing brilliance takes your breath away. Golden light paints a picture of a perfect day waiting to be explored.
After enjoying a cold, but rewarding visit to Gator Creek to watch the dawn spectacle, Gini and I headed to Black Point Wildlife Drive. This is a seven-mile one-way trip through shallow water marsh impoundments and pine flatwoods.
There will be three posts describing our visit. Hope you enjoy it a fraction as much as we did.
We enjoyed watching the sky being painted with pastel layers just prior to sunrise. The building near the center of the image is NASA’s Vehicle Assembly Building.

Don’t forget to turn around when enjoying a sunrise. This is the edge of Gator Creek where we were standing to watch the dawn. The creek is an inlet of the Indian River. The moon was a bonus.

A pod of three Bottlenose Dolphins hunted in the creek as the Sun pointed out where to find the fish.


The dawn’s early light gives a Tricolored Heron a special glow. I’m not sure he’s ready to be up just yet as the stiff breeze ruffles his head feathers.

As we entered Black Point Wildlife Drive, it looked quite different than when we visited about a year ago. (First image now, second then.)


January. Wildflowers. Pleasantly surprised. Indian Blanket (Gaillardia pulchella).

Typical marsh habitat. Among all that grass are pockets of water where all sorts of water-loving birds can hide.

A Great Egret reflecting on what to have for breakfast.

This adult Little Blue Heron found a snack. Seems like it would take a lot of snacks that size to satisfy an appetite.

The Glossy Ibis uses its uniquely shaped bill to probe soft mud for delicious delicacies. Yum!

Try to get a portrait of a Snowy Egret and you get photo bombed by a Little Blue Heron.

Second try for the Snowy Egret was successful and even managed a bit of a display of its namesake “aigrettes“. Spring is near.

Ol’ Blue Eyes. White Ibises numbered in the hundreds throughout the day.

Winter migration offers a chance to see the Bonaparte’s Gull. They are small and almost resemble terns more than gulls. Unlike most gulls, they nest in trees. They are named for a fellow who contributed quite a bit to North American bird studies, Charles Lucien Bonaparte, a cousin of some sort of general with the same last name.


Immature Little Blue Herons remain mostly white during their first year, develop patches of slate-gray and by their second year achieve the solid color of an adult. Fish – it’s what’s for breakfast.

Dozens of Osprey dropped from the sky to snag fish wherever there was water.

We have made it to the half-way point of the wildlife drive. The sheer number of birds has been amazing. Up next: Marsh Madness.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
*https://www.fws.gov/refuge/merritt-island
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There is something to be said for sleeping in. It feels good. Especially when the days are cold. Lounging about sipping hot coffee thinking about how your lazy self should have been up and out the door while it was still dark because how else are you ever going to encounter Nature in all its glory when it’s common knowledge there is nothing worth photographing once the Golden Hour has passed!
Okay. I’m up.
Gini remained in this morning, but not in bed. Holiday crafting material is now on sale and there is shopping to be done! The internet is a wonderful thing. Spend right from the comfort of your own living room. She promised grits and eggs upon my return.
The air was actually balmy, in complete synchronization with my personality. I managed to reach the shore of the lake just as the sun was escaping a low-hanging cloud formation. Warmish temperature was welcome as I knew a cold front was scheduled for tonight.
“The Regulars”. One can pretty well list the birds which will be encountered at familiar spots during any given season before even leaving the house. Sure enough, there they were. Anhingas draping the cypress trees where they spent the night. The Great Blue Heron atop a lookout where any tell-tale ripple in the lake’s surface at dawn’s early light would mean an easy breakfast. Common Gallinules gabbling among the reeds in the murky light. A pair of Limpkins wailing eerily at each other from opposite ends of the park. Morning flights of White and Glossy Ibises, Double-crested Cormorants and Cattle Egrets flowed across the sky in waves.
As the sky began to brighten with the rising sun, the volume of bird noised became increasingly incessant. An Eastern Phoebe yelled out her name, Boat-tailed Grackles screeched collectively, Red-winged Blackbirds sounded like a yard full of rusty gates and overhead an Osprey yelled at a Forster’s Tern to get out of the way.
Less than two hours later I tucked in to hot buttered grits, a link of smoked sausage and perfectly scrambled eggs. Hot coffee and orange juice almost completed an excellent breakfast. Perfection was achieved with just one more kiss. She is just so very special.
So. I could have enjoyed a warm bed for a couple of extra hours. Or, I could experience a sunrise and a short walk along a lake shore filled with birds followed by a hearty breakfast accompanied by hugs and kisses.
Easy decision.
The lake just after sunrise offers the promise of a wonderful morning.

Escargot. It’s what’s for breakfast. If you are a Limpkin.

Not worms, but fish are on the menu of this early morning Osprey.

The visiting Pied-billed Grebe Synchronized Swim Team was out this morning practicing for their next competition.


She migrated south to stay warm and eat bugs. We offer opportunities of both for the Eastern Phoebe.

I couldn’t figure out if this Snowy Egret was admiring his reflection or zeroing in on a minnow.

A Little Blue Heron offers two different views. Resting after preening and putting that long neck to good use in searching for the first meal of the day.


I was surprised this Black-crowned Night Heron didn’t take flight as I happily snapped a few photographs. Must have been waiting on his breakfast order to be delivered.

Sometimes, sleeping late is a nice luxury. Today, it would have been difficult to imagine anything more luxurious than spending an early morning at the lake.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!

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Yesterday we were sweeping up the place after our extravagant holiday reveling. There, among the bits of discarded shrimp, crumpled paper hats, Frank Sinatra album cover, underw— (oops, how’d that get there?) – we discovered some bits and bobs that escaped from the darkroom. We thought we would share.
The pictures, not that other stuff.
It was all the way back near the middle of November 2023. What a year! Fall had fell and we were happy as heck. Happy because we were enjoying blue skies, sunshine, warm temperatures and a three-day period with no medical appointments on the calendar.
We packed up for the big trip before bed, set the alarm for earlier than would be humane for anyone except a farmer and tossed and turned all night in excited anticipation of the delights we were certain to encounter!
At last! The clock screeched and Gini bashed it against the wall in a frustrated attempt to make it shut up. I rolled over. Our years of experience in planning safaris and expeditions paid off handsomely as we loaded the adventure vehicle. A place for everyting and everything in its … “Did you pack breakfast?“
Not wishing to be subjected to the same fate as our former alarm clock, I shouted back “Don’t be silly!“. (See how that works? Plausible deniability is the cornerstone of any successful relationship.) I dashed to the kitchen and threw granola bars and bananas in a sack.
Now we were ready!
It took eight minutes to reach our patch just as the sun peeked over the cypress trees. We saw some really neat things. We ate a banana. More neat things. We ate a granola bar. Neat things were everywhere!
We went home.
Oh, yeah. Sharing as promised.
One of our late-blooming wetland flowers is the lovely lavender Climbing Aster (Symphyotrichum carolinianum). At first glance, it appears to be a vine. However, it’s a shrub which can grow up to 20 feet or more from its base as long as it has some sort of support, such as a tree.


Arriving a bit later than some migrants, Yellow-rumped Warblers are now appearing in large numbers throughout the area. It’s pretty easy to see how they were named and why some refer to it as “Butterbutt“.

A tree by any other name could be the same. The Groundsel Tree (Baccharis halimifolia) is also known as Sea-myrtle, Consumptionweed, Eastern Baccharis, Groundsel, Groundsel Bush, Salt Marsh-elder, Salt Bush and Florida Groundsel Bush. In late fall extensive growth of this plant can make a field look like its covered in snow.


Patience denied. I waited in vain for this little Cassius Blue (Leptotes cassius) to display is lovely blue upperwing. Sigh.

It is not unusual for some dragonflies and damselflies to breed throughout the year in central and southern Florida as long as the weather does not turn too cold. Encountering this pair of mating Rambur’s Forktail (Ischnura ramburii) was a nice surprise.

Small and very active, a Downy Woodpecker seemed to be in some sort of race as it quickly scoured tree trunks, limbs and leaves for insects. No red showing on the back of its head indicates this is a female.

The Roseate Skimmer (Orthemis ferruginea) is one of our favorite Odonata due to its very lovely color.

Gini says I like this butterfly because my behavior echoes its name much of the time. The Sleepy Orange (Abaeis nicippe) we found has transformed from its “wet season” yellow to the “dry season” brown coloration.

Migrating raptors are exciting to spot. This smallish and very fast immature Sharp-shinned Hawk closely resembles the somewhat larger Cooper’s Hawk.

A medium-sized butterfly, the Great Southern White (Ascia monuste) often is observed in large numbers in the fall. This one seemed to be all alone.

A young Red-shouldered Hawk was not about to let a couple of two-legged intruders interrupt its grasshopper meal.


Patience rewarded. Unlike that “other” blue, above, this very cooperative Ceraunus Blue (Hemiargus ceraunus) readily showed off its upperwing beauty.


A new Odonata! This Carolina Spreadwing (Lestes vidua) is not only a first for us, it is the first record for this species in our county. The sighting was verified by the citizen science folks at Odonata Central. https://www.odonatacentral.org/#/

I seem to have a difficult time finding a female Band-winged Dragonlet (Erythrodiplax umbrata). We came close with an immature male. In the first image below, you can see the olive/tan thorax which will soon turn as blue as the abdomen. The second picture is of an adult male.


Those long twin tails make the Long-tailed Skipper (Urbanus proteus) seem larger than it really is. The iridescent blue-green body helps separate this species from others.

A new Odonata! This Variegated Meadowhawk (Sympetrum corruptum) is not only a first for us, it is the first record for this species in our county. The sighting was verified by the citizen science folks at Odonata Central. https://www.odonatacentral.org/#/ (As the baseball great, Yogi Berra, noted: “It’s deja vu all over again.”)

As we departed the area, another young Red-shouldered Hawk flew up to a fence post as if to say “Farewell Fond Friends”. (Okay, more like “don’t let the gate hit ya on the way out!”.)

Our holiday after-party cleanup was a success. Finding a few images to share from long ago was a nice bonus. Hope they weren’t too dusty for you to see.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
*– To those thrilling days of yesteryear!























