Exploring--Near Home Again--Salt Marsh Trails

I am fascinated by salt marshes--by the rolling sea of grass, by seasonal variations in the texture and color of the grasses, and by the changing patterns of land and water as the tide rises and falls. Since all the land in a marsh is fairly low, these patterns are not set; the incoming tide flows in some established channels, but also spreads in unique ways that subtly change the scenery from one day to another. These North Florida wetlands are quite different from the Michigan wetlands I grew up with and the wetlands of other places we have lived. I feel enriched to have lived in Western Michigan, the New York City/Long Island area, Southern California, greater Atlanta, Georgia, and now in Jacksonville, Florida. I am thankful for this land and for the rich variety of natural beauty near each place we have lived, as well as in the many other states we have been fortunate to explore.

We have hiked several times in the Theodore Roosevelt area of Jacksonville's vast Timucuan Preserve. A favorite trail leads to an observation platform looking out over the marsh--the views in the above photos. The trail is named after Willie Brown, a man who once lived in a small, isolated, primitive cabin (the cabin footings remain, midway along the trail) in the woodsy region on the way to the marsh. Thus, walking the trail provides two distinct types of terrain and habitat. The view from the observation platform is particularly interesting late in the day, at nesting time for the many water birds who range out from the area.

Next post I will show you two small paintings, studies for possible larger pieces, based on these and other photos from our exploration on the trail a couple of years ago. I took the photos when my sister visited from Maryland, and we explored this area together. Although we have been back since, something about the tidal patterns in photos from our first visit most strongly moved me to paint the scene. For some reason, photos from more recent visits have not struck me with the same power, even though our experience of the natural setting has been amazing every time.

You see the marsh as it looks in early January, warmed by the brown and golden tones of winter grass but yielding fewer bird sightings than in nesting season. I enjoy the lonely expanse and the limited palette of the scene in winter, which focuses my attention on the interesting patterns of the waterways as the tide begins to recede from an earlier high, exposing mud, mussel beds, and tiny scurrying crabs.

Question of the day: What natural beauty has enriched your life recently?

Exploring--Right Near Home--Big Talbot Island

Wherever we have lived, I have enjoyed playing tourist near home. It doesn't cost much (sometimes is free, especially if one can walk or bike there) and often reveals delightful new surprises. We are fortunate to have many friends and family members from other parts of the USA or other countries who come to stay with us. Spending time showing them our home town and surroundings takes us places we might neglect to experience otherwise. How many of us hear about nearby interesting places we would like to explore and yet postpone doing that month after busy month?

Here's a thought. Even if you don't have visitors, promise yourself an outing sometime soon. Choose a place and put it on your calendar. Or step out the door right now, stroll around for a few minutes or more with all your senses on high alert. Take a camera and make like a tourist. What if you were paying money for your "lodgings"--wouldn't you explore the area?

Or, imagine yourself hosting a visitor from someplace quite unlike your region. If it is hard to see the farms around you with fresh eyes, pretend you are guiding visitors from Saudi Arabia. Wouldn't they be amazed at the rolling hills or vast plains in lush greens or rich golden tones? Or if your city neighborhood is seeming drab and uninteresting, imagine giving small-town visitors a tour of the ethnic food stalls and lunch counters in some surrounding blocks. Wouldn't they love hearing multiple languages and savoring the varied aromas and flavors? 

We had lived in Jacksonville, FL for several years before a visit from a brother who lives in Cleveland, Ohio prompted me to explore Big Talbot Island State Park. A stark contrast to the endless, wide Jacksonville beaches most visitors flock to, the shore of Big Talbot is a quiet, somewhat ghostly walk along low bluffs. Over time, the battering of storms and storm tides has toppled and sculpted  oaks, pines, and other vegetation into a unique atmosphere (begging for artistic photographers--and for us amateurs, too). The shady, wooded trail from parking to an overlook is short and easy, and another short trail leads to a path down the bluff to the shore. There are other hiking trails in the Big Talbot Park preserve, through heavily wooded areas dripping with Spanish moss or along the fascinating, varied habitat of salt marshes--bird-watching and just breathing deeply made an afternoon here feel like an extended vacation.

Question of the day:  Why did I wait for an out-of-town visitor to explore this nearby natural wonder? What will you explore for the first time or see in a new way soon?