Muiring Around Honeymoon Island

“An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day. “

-Henry David Thoreau

Early Morning

*Muiring-hiking, walking, backpacking, kayaking;enjoying the natural world to the fullest.

This morning as I start my hike the only visitors that I take notice of are the beach combers. I notice a few of them hunting for shells near the breaking surf. Beach combers are a funny bunch. They search the beach for prized shells as if they are mining for gold. It was chilly this morning. The air was fresh, the breeze was refreshingly chilly. I’ve been waiting for fall since last fall. It was nice to finally feel Florida’s prime hiking weather creeping back into place.

This morning I started my hike with no real game plan in mind. I figured I would just hike down the beach heading west until I could walk no further. I figured at some point the beach would disappear, being replaced by piles of sea grass or muddy flats. In the beginning the beach is rocky, large chunks of shell and limestone make walking barefoot nearly impossible. This morning I am wearing standard trail runners. As of now my feet are dry and toasty. Beautiful dunes front the beach, a sight that is becoming rare in modern Florida. For a while I ponder about this island’s early history. The native people must have taken oysters from the lagoon and small game from the pine forest. In recent history, as early as 1939 it became a popular honeymoon destination. A New York developer built thatched bungalows and tried to draw in honeymooners. Luckily today it is a state park. It is a natural gem amongst miles of shoreline in this area which has long been consumed by condos.

Dunes

As I hike further I notice the sandy beach is slowly disappearing.  I reach the western tip of the island and I contemplate turning around. It was hard to gauge from this standpoint whether or not I could reach dry land. I figured if I got close to the distant pine trees I could possibly connect to the Osprey Trail. I figured it was worth a shot, especially since it appeared to be low tide.

Western tip turning into a tidal flat.

As I proceed further I notice that the shoreline is shrinking. It starts to become really muddy, a few remnant puddles remain. Mangroves are starting to dominate the landscape. It appears that land is giving way to water.

Hiking the mud flats.

Mangroves are mystical. They often trick the mind. From where I first hit water it seemed that the distant shore was not too far away. The mangroves had a different plan for my travels today. As I walked next to the mangroves more shallow bays formed. I would follow the perimeters of the bays to avoid deep water. Keep in mind it was chilly today.  As I walk I realize that my luck has taken me far back into mangrove swamps that are seldom visited by man. Here man has the slightest of footprints. Here the Great Blue Herons, Ibis, and a cast of other wading birds dominant. The landscape was beautiful. I come across an extensive tidal flat guarded by hundreds of the birds previously mentioned. I walk this flat, my shoes practically sucking off my feet. I realize at this point the water is just below my knee. My goal is to reach the next clump of mangroves. This clump will take me closer to the shoreline I am aiming for. At this point I stop and admire the pure solitude that I am experiencing. This solitude is refreshing. It makes me think of John Muir. While there are no real descriptions of Muir playing in mangroves I figure he might of. Maybe he walked the tidal flats around Cedar Key during his 1,000 mile walk to the Gulf. While my feet were a little cold, being in this moment made it all worth it.

Hiking the flats.

I finally reach the shoreline. The wind slowly comes to a stop. I finally start to feel the sun. For a moment I spot a Northern Harrier. This migrant seems very comfortable amongst the mangroves. I reach high ground realizing that I have reached my goal. In a way I feel sort of sad leaving the muddy tidal flats. It is now time to hike the pine flatwoods. I say goodbye to the water and continue my journey through the land of pines and saw palmettos.

Nature Photos (Honeymoon Island + Chautauqua Park)

Osprey Nest Honeymoon Island State Park

Chautauqua Park

A pink prairie of muhly grass. Honeymoon Island.

These pictures are from a recent day trip I did on bike and on foot.  All three photos were taken at local parks on the same day. Two of the pics were taken at Honeymoon Island State Park. The other pic was taken at Chatauqua Park,  a City of Clearwater park. Both parks make living in the urban sprawl of Pinellas County a little bit easier.

10/17/08

“I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in tune once more.”

-John Burroughs

Honeymoon Island…10/2/08

Fresh fall air fills my lungs. The air is almost sweet in taste due to such freshness. Crossing the Dunedin Causeway this morning I could not wait to get inside the gate at Honeymoon Island State Park. In fact I arrived too early. I had to wait almost 15 minutes before the gate keeper let me and four other cars in. I was the lead car. The others behind me were strangers. I quickly drove to the Osprey Trail trailhead, the others drove towards the beach.

As I start the trail I am greeted by plentiful arrangements of Horsemint. The cool fall air keeps my senses keen, though the glowing sun is slowly creeping skyward and its rays are becoming well known by the back of my neck. It will warm up later, but I think this breeze at least for now will remain constant.

A standard snag.

A few moments past 8 AM I hear the call of an osprey. The osprey is holding onto a snag, his or her nest within view. I quickly find myself in gopher country. The trail and its surroundings become open and sandy. The mighty land tortoise lives on this beachy paradise. Prickly pear cactus dot the open patches of sand, their fleshy fruits gleaming in the sunlight. The fruit looks delicious, but I will leave these treats for the ‘ol land tortoise. To my right I continue to see weathered snags, some are leaning. A fringe of mangroves is hiding near the snags, these same snags are governed by neatly kept osprey’s nest. With the snags to my back I begin to notice that I am surrounded by an army of pines.  Wax myrtle and saw palmetto are the foot soldiers in this army. There seems to be increasing freshness, the sound of man further dimenished.

A small Mocking Bird in a small snag carries on with a melody, while a Pileated Woodpecker carries the rhythm. An adult osprey now departs for the gulf.  Though the music of nature is simple, nothing we compose truly compares. The pines and the passing wind, along with their avian allies remind those willing to listen that nature is the true grand symphony. Tiny birds flutter across the trail and some of their companions dive for cover like shooting darts as they become aware of my presence.

Native Beach Dune Sunflower.

Its hard to ignore the osprey architecture that has been developed in the snags. Its easy to understand why the trail is called the Osprey Trail. Their lookout towers here are plentiful.  So are the mosquitos. At a mile in I reach the junction of Pelican Trail and Osprey Trail. I continue now down the Pelican Trail. I walk now from pines to mangroves. As I leave the mangrove swamp I enter the dunes filled with sea oats. At this point as I sit down on a bench facing the water I am at just over a mile in. My troubled knee seems ok for now. Numerous egrets and herons feed in the shallows. A pair of opspreys patrol the sky, their eyes piercing downward in hopes of snagging an unlucky fish.

Watching an American Egret is truly a lesson in patience.  As I watch, it stands motionless as if it is a statue. I know its patience will be rewarded. Time does not exist in his world nor do deadlines. Humans are a funny bunch. Have you noticed how we are always in a hurry. We rush here and there yet the rewards of life are often found when you slow down. Nature is never in a hurry. Why must we be rushed?  Believe me the economy and technology have nothing over what blossoms before me today.

I sometimes notice a sense of rush even when I hike. There is often a feeling involving the following…How many miles did I do?…What is the best strategy?…etc. You can probably relate to these underlying demands. Today is different. I am slowing down to observe my surroundings. It happens naturally when you have time to be engulfed by nature.  Acclimating to nature is easy, but it often takes time to change your state of mind. I continue for a stretch along the coast.

Hiking the coast.

At one point I come across a strange ecotone. Slash pines and mangroves are shaking hands. As I make my way back towards the Osprey Trail I come across an active gopher tortoise burrow. No one seems to be home so I proceed back into the pines saying a quick goodbye to the mangroves and the salty coast.

My hike comes to an end as I reach the picnic area where the trailhead begins. I walk past my truckand walk towards the beach. This section of beach is rocky, covered in chuncks of limestone.  It gives the feel of being remote, the condos loom in the distance. As I sit down I realize my knee is feeling the hike. I guess my knee needs more time to heal.  As for me though I am relaxed and thinking to the future. A trip around this island in a kayak would be an experience. A trip to Caladesi Island might just top it all off. For now I will sit with the lazy Gulf, the water reminding me that there is no need to be in a hurry.