Sanibel Repeat

“How bad Jim?” I had asked next door neighbours, Jim and Mary Burrison, last fall about hurricane damaged Sanibel Island. It lies off the west coast of Lower Florida. They love the island and have vacationed there many times. You may know the story. Hurricanes had done much destruction last year to both the island and the mainland. This is a recounting of our involvement with Sanibel. My wife, Elaine, and I had spent a little time walking its pristine beaches. I had been told in the mid-nineties by an American naturalist about "Ding" Darling National Wildlife Refuge on the island. Being retired we had the opportunity to pick the time and duration of a visit to it. We planned a short trip, one week, to see some of Florida's nature spots that I had heard about and others that I had researched. For the best bargains to Florida we were told to choose November or April. We watched for bargains at peninsula travel bureaus. We found one trip at a very reasonable price and soon arrived by a flight from Toronto to Tampa. We reached our comfortable accommodations at the southern tip of St. Petersburg in a new rental Pontiac GrandAm, all part of the deal. I had mapped out the places we wanted to see and first was "Ding" Darling Refuge. We headed out Monday morning over the towering Sunshine Skyway toll bridge. We had come to see birds and I had read, "... half to three-quarters of all species pass through this part of Florida (Sanibel Island) at some point in the year." We crossed the toll bridge and entered at mid-morning the 5,014 acre sanctuary on a dry, dusty roadway. To our right and left were tidal bays and small islands covered with dense growths of mangrove trees with their tangled mass of above ground roots.We soon reached the modern Visitor Center and paid our admission. We reentered our car and followed the clearly marked road around the preserve. We took the main road called the Wildlife Drive, a five mile one-way drive. Here the posted speed was 20 m.p.h. Clouds of dust encircled our car whenever we slowed down so I pulled over to the narrow grassy shoulder. There in the tidal pool we saw our first two Roseate Spoonbills. Just think of a flamingo with a fat lip. They were swinging their spatulate-like bill from side to side as they fed. We were told that we were fortunate to see them for most had departed further south for the Florida Everglades where they nest. These two were a beautiful, bright pink with white necks and orange tails. Next Part Two: Ding Darling