Manatee Park/Sanibel & Captiva Islands

Last stop on our Florida vacation brought us full circle back to where we'd landed -- Fort Myers.

We snuck in a stop at Manatee Park on the way to visit Danelle's college roommate.  There were a bunch of manatees, but they didn't photograph especially well.  Unlike this blue crab, off of who's bright shell the sun reflected nicely through the shallow water.

I'm always entranced by the variety of plant life in tropical climates.  So many subtle differences in shade, so many shapes and textures.

Sanibel Island was on Danelle's wish list to visit, so visit we did.  It didn't take long to figure out why it's considered the seashell capital of the world.  The beaches were just littered with them.

They might not be quite as comely as swans, but this pair of Brown Pelicans still made a fetching sight.

Sunset was yet another treat.  In Colorado, the landscape is a huge part of most sunrise and sunset pictures I've taken.  But in Florida it was much more about the sky and clouds.  I wasn't sure what to do with the relatively flat terrain in most shots.

Danelle and Taryn were both bitten by the shelling bug, so we headed to Captiva Island on our last morning for more collection.  Which was fine with me, since it also meant more pictures like of this foraging Willet.  At least, I think it's a Willet.  I'll be tapping into the good folks of the Audubon Florida Facebook page for confirmation.

Crystal Conway confirms: "Yup, it's a willet."  Thanks, Crystal!

The iridescence of Stiff Pen Shells always caught my eye.  Several of them ended up coming back to Colorado.

I kept tying to get a good shot of a pelican hitting the water going after a fish, but I wasn't happy with any of the results.  This guy coasting over the water came out pretty well, though.

I couldn't tell if someone had left these sunglasses on the beach, or if the tide had brought them in.  Either way, I found them interesting.  And the reflection off the lenses enabled me to get in one of my own pictures.

Every gull species in my Audubon app seems to have a yellow bill, so I'm not exactly sure what these birds are, either.  They were all paying rapt attention to something, though.

Carrie Gentle weighs in via the Audubon Florida Facebook page: "Probably laughing gulls in winter plumage (in summer they have black hoods)"  Thanks, Carrie!

A moment later they were flying off, much like we did ourselves later that day.

Florida was everything I'd hoped it would be photographically -- captivating wildlife and beautiful scenery, especially in the "golden hours" around sunrise and sunset.  Nothing at all like Colorado, but no less gorgeous in its own way.  Wouldn't mind coming back and exploring more of the Everglades and Keys some day!

Long Key State Park

Getting up early to shoot one sunrise on our Florida vacation wasn't enough for me. I had to try and squeeze in one more. A little online research made Long Key State Park seem like a viable choice -- fairly close to our hotel, and with some southeast-facing shoreline.

What I hadn't counted on was the park's gates not opening until 7 a.m., which I really should have expected given my recent experience at Biscayne.  Unlike Biscayne, this park's gate actually was closed when I arrived.  So I parked on the side of the Overseas Highway and started walking.

Not too far in I found this canoe launch area, which was pretty enough to stop and shoot but not quite what I had pictured in my head for the main event.

As I progressed along the Golden Orb Trail I found my vantage point -- a strip of coast that had a nice curve to it and a clear view towards the rising sun.  Even the clouds were cooperating, adding some texture without blocking all the color.  I don't really know how to describe the consistency of the shore; it wasn't exactly sandy, but wasn't exactly muddy or rocky either.

At one point, a flock of birds decided the scenery wasn't quite picturesque enough without their presence.

The low clouds on the horizon helped give me the extended dance remix of sunrise, prolonging the time during which the exposure was fairly consistent across the scene.  I liked how the tops of the clouds had taken on a pinkish hue at this point.

Just before the sun finally burst over the top of the clouds, magnificence.  I can't get over all the different colors in the water at this moment -- yellow, orange, turquoise, violet -- nearly everything but the sort of blue that you'd expect, and that would predominate once the sun rose just a bit higher.

Not my normal variety of photos in this post.  Most of them were shot from the same exact spot.  But what's the point of moving when the sky constantly changes the view for you?

Dry Tortugas National Park

We'd already hit two national parks on a vacation that was supposed to be mainly about beaches, pools and umbrella drinks. I thought convincing Danelle to squeeze in a third might be tough, especially considering it was 70 miles by either boat or seaplane to get to it. But when I approached her about a possible day trip to Dry Tortugas National Park she was all about it. And I'm glad she was!

Some morning fog delayed our departure a bit, and incoming weather actually caused the cancellation of the afternoon trip.  But fortunately we were able to get out.

Conditions in the park when we arrived after a 30-minute flight were gorgeous.  Just enough clouds to add some visual texture to the sky while still allowing the sun to shine through.

Not too many places can get away with using a huge, rusted anchor for a lawn ornament.  Fort Jefferson can.

The fort's architect was clearly a big believer in simplicity and function.  Not a lot of variety in the interior, but the repetition was mesmerizingly beautiful in its own way.

Hard to imagine anything resembling a military threat emanating from the tranquil, tropical scene visible through the fort's windows.

Danelle's always on the lookout for good places to set up camp in the event of a zombie apocalypse.  With some desalination equipment, this would have to be high on the list.

I applaud the ingenuity of whatever military official convinced the government that we needed to build a fort in this little slice of paradise.  Reminds me of the logic I tried to use on Danelle when I worked for the Broncos to convince her that watching ESPNews non-stop was essential to my career.

The tower staircases felt more like something out of a medieval castle than a late-19th century structure.  I could envision Errol Flynn rushing up these stairs with a drawn sword.

The incongruity of palm fronds, emerald waters and bright blue skies framing utilitarian brickwork created an odd sort of visual harmony, like the optical equivalent of KLF and Tammy Wynette.

Long after the fort was officially retired, armored patrols still walk the perimeter.

Royal Terns lined a seawall by the southern wharf ruins, looking appropriately bored as only royalty can.

Brown Pelicans like this juvenile topped most of the pilings, which I had to agree looked like good spots for preening.

Two hours might seem like plenty of time to enjoy a relatively small place, but it seemed horribly rushed.  I saw a photographer's blog where the author said he had camped in the park for two nights to see everything he wanted to, and I can understand why.  Between exploring the fort and taking in the natural beauty above and below the water (I didn't manage to make time for any of the latter), at least a full day would seem to be in order.  I don't know if my own travels will ever bring me back, but I'm still grateful that I got to spend at least a little time here!

Anhinga Trail, Part II

Click here for Part I.

If I'd only taken the pictures from my last blog post during our time on the Anhinga Trail, I would have considered it an enjoyable and successful time.  To have gotten twice as many is almost more than I can comprehend.

And the end of one boardwalk was an observation deck that looked out over an area that had at least a dozen alligators, who captured the attention of most of the visitors.  What did I focus on?  The Little Blue Heron looking for lunch.

This pose was much more common among the handful of Green Herons we saw than the upright stance of the one earlier.

The Great Blue Herons I've seen at South Platte Park will fly off if they think you're too close ... from the opposite side of the river.  This one in Florida was much more laid back, letting me get thisclose.

This picture breaks a cardinal rule of nature photography -- the picture that's really not that good, but you can't resist showcasing because you know how hard it was to get.  This Purple Gallinule never stayed still, moving skittishly in and out of the undergrowth.  I tried to stay with him for a while, but couldn't manage a shot sharper than this one.  This round's to you, Gallinule.

I saw two Pied-billed Grebes on our trip, each floating alone in a small body of water.  Do they do anything else?

An endangered Wood Stork was foraging when we arrived, and as much as I wanted to get a shot of him he was just too far off.  On our return trip I noticed he had moved closer, and he then did me the ultimate favor of taking off, flying in my direction and gliding in for a landing not too far in front of me.  Serendipity.

The alligators didn't seem that dangerous mainly because most of them weren't moving.  They just lay in the sun, soaking up rays.  This one, however, seemed much more sinister as he glided silently towards us.  Danelle got this shot of him before he disappeared under the bridge we were on.  I was busy getting off the bridge.

Nearly lost in all the alligators and wading birds was this Northern Mockingbird, sitting in a tree quite close to the trail and apparently unperturbed at all the foot traffic.  He did glare at me a bit, but wasn't bothered enough to give up his perch.

I don't think we spent even two hours on the trail, but saw an absolutely staggering abundance and diversity of wildlife.  I was so overwhelmed by it all, I didn't even try to convince my family to also do the Gumbo Limbo Trail.  We'd already seen more than I could process.

And now I have an excuse to come back someday. :)

Anhinga Trail, Part I

After two nights we bade farewell to Homestead and headed for the Keys, with a short detour planned along the way to take in TripAdvisor's top-rated attraction in Everglades National Park -- the Anhinga Trail.

Hiking's not my family's favorite thing.  They agree to do it on occasion because they love me.  I figured at just 8/10 of a mile this would be a nice compromise and a good stretch of the legs for everyone, and if we were lucky we might see some animals.  Boy, did I underestimate this trail!

Disney themselves couldn't have placed the wildlife any more abundantly or conveniently.  Double-crested Cormorants were sitting right on the fence along the start of the trail, as if protesting its name.

"Ask not for whom the Cormorant squawks.  It squawks for thee, not me."

Birds drying their wings always look majestic and impressive to me.  This female Anhinga was no exception.

Right below the sun-worshipping Anhinga, a Tricolored Heron stood casually in the shallow water of the slough.  It wasn't enough just to have wildlife everywhere you looked.  You often got multiple species in a single view.  Truly an embarrassment of riches.

Yes, there were also alligators.  Lots of alligators.  Big alligators and little alligators.  From one observation deck we counted a dozen.  It got to the point where you couldn't even appreciate them any more.

I believe this guy is a Green Heron, but all the others we saw were perched much more parallel to the ground and not as upright as this one.

Plenty of Great Egrets, too.

The Yellow Pond Lilies had the thickest petals I'd ever seen.

A Great Blue Heron stood at attention, alert for what I wasn't really sure.  It was amazing to see a bird that seems so at home here in Colorado appear equally so in a completely different environment.

Click here for Part II.

Coral Castle

"Into every vacation a little tourist trap must fall." Maybe that's not the exact quote, but that doesn't make it any less true.

On our Florida vacation that tourist trap was Coral Castle, a thousand tons of limestone constructed over 28 years by one man, Latvian immigrant Ed Leedskalnin.

Because it's just who we are, we were initially drawn more to all the lizards running around the property (like this invasive Red-headed Agama Danelle shot) then to the structure itself.  Hey, we don't get many lizards in Colorado.

Zak tried out one of the "Reading Chairs," looking a lot like my dad did when he "read."

Taryn assumed a more intellectual pose, as if contemplating how one man working alone with hand tools fashioned from used auto parts could have built such a place.

Zak seemed more at home in the "Throne Room."

The aptly named Obelisk.  Did I mention that Leedskalnin not only built the place by himself, but also moved it all 10 miles from its original location further south?

The Well is festooned with vividly colored foliage.  Really, just an excuse to use "festoon."

I'm not exactly sure what this little guy is.  Fence lizard, maybe?  Regardless, like I said earlier we respond to animals like magpies react to shiny objects.  So there was no way I wasn't taking a picture of the little sunbather.

The place actually was pretty neat, and not a bad way to kill an hour.  The kids were even more engaged than we expected.  And it was the subject of an episode of In Search Of...  What more do you need to know?