We thought we might be rained out. But when 6:00 came along and the sun was peeking through the clouds, we decided to go for it. We have more Danes visiting (see my post about Servas, the international hosting program, here.)
So we packed up an assortment of delectable treats, grabbed our cameras and drove out to the swamp. This time of year it looks like the plants will grow over everything and cover all surfaces with their leafy protrusions. Vines twist over the railings and obscure the signs. Weeds choke the waterways to the point where it seems like you could step out onto the surface of the canals and not sink. We could barely see the alligators as their eyes and snouts just poked above the carpet of aquatic plants.
The clouded sunset cast the swamp in a dreamy light. As we neared the end of the trail, our friends Elizabeth and Brent caught up – we didn’t know for sure that they’d be joining us so we were happily surprised.
The bugs had been rather insistent on the walk out, but as we reached the last bridge, the breeze and the dozens of large dragonflies zooming about seemed to dampen their efforts to bite us. So we set up our picnic smorgasbord. Red and white wine, grapes, tomatoes, goat cheese, salmon, two kinds of crackers, red peppers, pretzels, pickled okra, olives, almonds, dates, chocolate, cookies – quite a feast for impromptu fridge and pantry raiding by Elizabeth and me!
As the moon rose we stopped to listen to the chorus of frogs and other critters. Something big was swishing its way through the marsh. The lightning bugs emerged and began doing their Morse Code mating dances. I tell you, it’s a magical place, and high on my fantabulous list. And having the whole place to ourselves – just us and the wildlife – it’s very special.