Flora & Fauna of Southwest Florida
Natural Wanders…
exploring the natural world through writing

Where the Wild Things Are (Flora & Fauna of Southwest Florida)
Introducing Naples
by Linda Lee Rathbun
photos by Steven David Miller

Where the Wild Things Are
by Linda Lee Rathbun
Photography by Steven David Miller

Imagine that you are lying on the warm sand of a Southwest Florida beach. The water tickles your feet as a high tide pushes at the shoreline. The breeze rushes across your skin like a whisper, and the sun's warm rays embrace you, drawing you into slumber. Soon, you are dreaming of a bird looking down upon the landscape, the bird is an osprey, a magical osprey that sees everything and knows everything. The osprey is about to embark on a journey, a journey to where the wild things are.
Below the osprey, the waters of the Gulf sparkle like prisms of cut crystal. The Gulf water is not clear today, it has thickened with the presence of plankton: a combination of microscopic animals and plants that have drifted out through a pass from the mangrove swamps. Small fish are feasting on the plankton. Large fish are feasting on the small fish. A female bottle-nosed dolphin swims by with her baby tight by her side. Their fins break the surface as they rise to breath in air. The mother is giving her 8 month old baby a lesson in echolocation. She sends out a signal. As it bounces back, she separates out the replies, she can process 700 sounds per second. She moves quickly as she detects what she is looking for, a school of striped mullet. She urges her baby on, it is just learning how to catch and eat fish after 6 months of nursing.
The osprey's attention is distracted from the swiftly swimming dolphins to a creature that seems to be flying slowly through the water. It is a loggerhead turtle. The female loggerhead is patrolling the shoreline, looking for a suitable place to come ashore and lay her eggs tonight. This will be her first clutch this spring. By the time the hatchlings emerge from their nest, she will have migrated to a far corner of the Gulf, or up the eastern coastline to Massachusetts, or even into the Caribbean. The loggerhead hatchlings face many challenges in their efforts to survive into adulthood, most will not. Conservation measures, some as simple as individuals not throwing plastic bags into the water which can be mistaken for food, will make a difference in helping all sea turtles survive.
Suddenly, from behind, the osprey feels a disturbance in the air. It looks around to find a squadron of brown pelicans heading straight for it, soaring from the momentum of a single wing beat taken by each bird at the same spot. The leader drops down, barely skimming the surface of the water, then the other pelicans drop too, one by one in perfect symmetry. They fly on, no doubt looking for a school of fish to feed on. Another squadron approaches, there seem to be pelicans everywhere, but this is not so. In their range outside of Florida, they are endangered. Even here, there is concern for the 500 pelicans that die each year from discarded monofilament fishing line. The brown pelican is the smallest of all pelican species, and the only one that dives for fish from the air.
The osprey decides to move out of the pelicans' flight path, it turns and soars over the waterline where a few wading birds goose-step down the beach in search of coquinas, a mollusk that lives in the wet sand. Some of the wading species, like the sanderling, are not here right now, they are breeding in the Arctic Circle and will not return until autumn. A snowy egret, still in its springtime breeding plumage, moves past the waders like a bride through a shabbily-dressed wedding party. The snowy is searching for small crustaceans that have also drifted out from the mangroves.
A gust of wind scoops up a dry layer of sand and tosses the granules back to sea. The osprey glances further up to where the sand has been stabilized by a cluster of sea oats; a plant with a network of spreading roots that trap and hold the sand in place. Without the sea oat, and other hardy plants adapted to this windy, salty habitat, the elements would suck all the sand back out to sea. The osprey rises up over a dune to where more pioneering plants, like the sea grape, have been sculpted into twisted shrubs that also stop erosion, erosion that can gobble up five feet of beachfront a year. This beach and dune ecosystem act as a first line of defense for the coastline, when development damages the ecosystem, an important barrier between land and sea is degraded. There are other threats to the beachfront, such as non-native plant species like the Australian Pine which invade and then take over the habitat of native plants. An eradication program is helping to restore the natural balance of the foreshore.
As the osprey flies up and over several coconut palms perched on the dunes, a lagoon shimmers just below. A great blue heron stands like a silent sentry by the water's edge, light reflecting on its soft gray and coffee-colored feathers. A tricolor heron, much smaller and more delicate than the great blue, lunges at a bait fish. An orderly line of white ibis march along the muddy flats, digging for food with their curved red bills, their blue eyes shining like aquamarine jewels. The inland shore of the lagoon is trimmed by a mangrove forest which spreads out into an estuary of emerald islands surrounded by brackish water. The osprey, a fish-eating bird of prey, knows this area well, nearby is its large nest sitting atop a channel marker. The osprey returns its attention to the surrounding mangrove.
At the forefront of the mangrove forest is the red mangrove tree, its prop roots reaching down from its lower branches like a maze of arches. Its seed will drop into the water and drift away looking for new territory to establish itself in. As a seedling takes root and grows, it will trap sediment, actually filling in new land. Just above the red mangrove is the black mangrove, its roots encircling it like a platter of pencils poking up through the thick mud. Beyond the black mangrove are white mangroves interspersed with buttonwood trees. Pollution can block the specially adapted pores of exposed mangrove roots, these pores allow the trees to take in the oxygen that is lacking in the muddy residue they stand in.
As mangrove roots trap and hold sediment washed down from land, they purify the water before it moves out to sea. Their branches provide an essential habitat for herons and egrets, in fact for 181 species of birds. Mangroves protect the mainland from storm damage, but most important of all, they act as the "cradle of the ocean". More than 70% (220 species) of the fish and shellfish that humans depend upon spend at least a part of their lives in this ecosystem. The cycle of marine life starts here and is carried out by the tides to the Gulf and the ocean.
A cormorant catches the osprey's attention. It is sitting on a nest of branches wedged into some mangrove foliage. The cormorant's mate is standing close by, its wings spread wide to dry out its feathers. The anhinga, a bird that dives underwater in its search for food, must also dry its feathers in this manner. A short distance away, a raccoon, panting in the heat, dangles over the branches of a black mangrove tree. A bit further on a great egret is perched on a prop root, waiting with dignified concentration for a meal of passing fish.
Suddenly, the surface of the water is broken. A manatee, a marine mammal, has poked its face out to take in a breath of air. It is full grown, 13 feet long and weighing 3,000 pounds. Its back is heavily scared with white lesions from several encounters with boat propellers moving too quickly for the manatee to avoid. With only about a thousand manatees left, every individual is precious. Its gentle nature makes it one of the most endearing animals on earth. The manatee drops back down below the water, swimming with unexpected speed to a meadow of sea grass where it will feed for several hours.
The tide has moved into the mangrove estuary, bringing with it fresh oxygen and salt water. From a nearby river, freshwater floods in too, diluting the salt. Soon the tide will recede, taking with it nutrients that will work their up to the very top of the food chain. The osprey glances down. It sees a fish it could easily catch, but it will wait till it returns from its journey.
As the mangroves give way to more solid land, actually a bed of limestone covered with an invaluable layer of soil, the osprey is flying over less familiar territory. It is flat here, and even a difference in elevation of a few inches can change the look of the landscape completely. Scrub and pineland form patches of green, and where this flatland hasn't been developed, it too has a critical role in nature. As rainwater falls from the sky, it filters through the soil into the underground aquifers that everything and everyone in Florida depends upon. The sandy soil filters and cleans the water as it leaches through to the water table.
The osprey flies over some scrubland. The scrub opens up into a clearing where several mounds of earth are covered with patchy grass. A burrowing owl sits on the top of a mound, bobbing its head in alarm at the shadow of the osprey. Beside the owl is the dugout entrance to its underground den where several fledglings sit in safety and coolness.
The clearing below the osprey is vegetated again, thick with dwarf scrub oak. A gopher tortoise digs out a tunnel, wildly tossing dirt through the air with its powerful legs. The tortoise's 30 foot long home, complete with a master bedroom at the end, will soon be invaded by as many as 70 other species of animals, all hoping to move in like a horde of unwelcome squatters. In the denser scrub, two scrub jays, a pair that has mated for life, tends to a nest of chicks. Juvenile jays from previous years help to care for the young, and they also defend the family territory from predators and other jays horning in on their turf. As scrubland has been lost, both the gopher tortoise and the scrub jay have become threatened: unlike other species, they cannot adjust to drastic changes in their environment.
Now, the soil is less dry and the vegetation changes, forming pineland made up of slash pines, cabbage palm and saw palmetto. The osprey spots a relative, a bald eagle sitting in a pine tree near its spa-sized nest. Florida has more breeding pairs of bald eagles than any other state besides Alaska. The southern subspecies of the bald eagle is slightly smaller than the northern subspecies.
A fire, an important factor in pineland ecology, has moved through, opening up the underbrush. Fresh plant shoots have brought small animals out into the open. An armadillo, a harmless naturalized citizen from Texas, waddles by with four babies trailing after it like a sect of armored piglets. The babies are quadruplets, four identical girls. This peculiar, but cute little mammal is a voracious insect eater, consuming up to 200 pounds of bugs every year.
The osprey spots a lush patch of greenery standing out like an island in the pineland. Here, the broad-leaved evergreen trees seem tropical, and indeed they are. This is a hardwood hammock with cabbage palms, royal palms, oaks and even magnolia. Scurrying up the bark of a tree is a fox squirrel. At twice the size of a gray squirrel, and with a handsome mask of fur around its elongated face, its dependency on certain types of ecosystems has placed it in danger, though it has adapted very well to golf courses!
The osprey hears the sound of a branch breaking on the hammock floor, the squirrel hears it too and darts up a tree. A black bear lumbers by, it is a male weighing about 200 pounds. It is a reclusive bear, with a range of approximately 100 square miles. With only about 1,000 left in Florida, it is a species of concern. This particular bear is not concerned though, what it wants is a nap. It drops to the ground, stopping to rest in the heat of the day.
The hammock, on higher ground than the surrounding pineland, gives way to more flatland that borders a thin band of wet prairie. A bobcat, draped across a fallen log like a fur coat, purrs with half-closed eyes as it languishes in the sun. The bobcat's tufted ears are tinged with black, and its tawny and gray-spotted fur is soft. Its tail is short, curling up at the end with a provocative splash of white.
Further out in the wet prairie, another white-tailed animal stands at attention, hidden by the tall grass. It is a white-tailed deer, one of the sixteen subspecies found in the Americas. As a subspecies' range moves closer to the tropics, that subspecies becomes smaller. This white-tailed deer is a bantam compared to its northern relatives, but an even smaller variety lives south of here, the diminutive key deer of the Florida Keys.
The osprey soars upward in a current of warm air, looking down at a strand of bald cypress trees standing in clean, almost still water. On the other side of the strand there is a slough, a channel of moving water. The osprey examines the swamp beneath: a thick, lush, tangle of growth that includes swamp maple, strangler fig, ash, and royal palm trees. Bromeliads and orchids, both air plants, have established themselves in the nooks of branches, decorating the swamp with pretty blooms. Spanish moss hangs from the trees like torn lace.
Through the lush new foliage of the bald cypress trees, the osprey spots a Florida panther collapsed across a sturdy tree branch, sleeping as if it didn't have a care in the world. Actually, this isn't really a panther, but a subspecies of the cougar. Like the black bear, the panther needs a vast range in which to roam and establish a territory: over 200 miles. There are fewer than fifty panthers left in the wild. Inbreeding amongst the dwindling numbers, loss of habitat, and mercury poison working its way up the food chain have brought the panther to the boundary of extinction.
Far luckier than the panther is an animal that was once on the endangered species list but has bounced back in the hundreds of thousands: the American alligator. Having been around in one form or another for 100 million years, this reptile had learned how to survive. A bellow echoes through the swamp, and the still water ripples with the vibrations of a male calling out for a mate. A female alligator responds. She will soon become a protective and devoted mother, first tending to and defending her nest, and then keeping a close eye over her babies till they are old enough to fend for themselves. In the swamp, many alligators are sunning themselves on logs.
A much more lively creature than the basking alligator is the river otter. The osprey can see a family of otters below: a female with several young pups and a few of her 'teenagers' from previous breeding seasons. Today the babies are having a swimming lesson. The otters seem to have one goal in mind: to have as much fun as they possibly can while they slither and swim and dive and squabble and fish and chatter. Their fur is considered to be the finest in the world.
Everywhere the osprey looks, it sees an abundance of plant and animal life. Wild hibiscus and swamp lilies are in bloom. The endangered wood stork is nesting this year. When water levels in the wetland are not just right for the large amount of fish the stork needs to feed its young, they will not even attempt to breed. When conditions are suitable though, a wood stork nesting colony is a noisy, boisterous place to be, and this odd bird with its exquisite cloak of feathers and not so exquisite bald head, is a barometer of the health of Florida's wetlands. Other birds fill every niche of the swamp: pileated woodpeckers drill the bark of trees, barred owls look for small prey with which to feed their young, red-shouldered hawks cry out as they too hunt for their young families.
Beyond the strand of cypress trees and swampland, the osprey sees the terrain give way to the most massive wetland of all, a slow-moving body of water inching through a marsh of sawgrass that stretches to the horizon. There, in the distance, is the Everglades basin which once covered a third of the state of Florida before so much of its land was reclaimed and its water diverted. There is renewed hope for the Everglades though, there are plans to help restore to its former glory. Like all wetlands, the Everglades play a role in the global cycle of water which is directly linked to weather patterns. Here, water evaporates into the atmosphere where it then condenses again to fall to the ground as rain. Today, the osprey sees what a glorious expanse of wilderness the Everglades is, a wilderness that is unique in all the world.
It is time for the osprey to return to its nest on the channel marker in the mangrove estuary. It flies back over a different route, looking down on the relentless expansion of houses and roads and golf courses and farms. The osprey spies its mangrove territory along the coastline, and it drops down to have a closer look for a fish to bring home to its mate. The osprey swoops down across the surface of the water, grasping a large fish in its talons. It shifts the fish so the head is pointing forward, making it easier to fly with. The osprey approaches its nest of sticks. Its mate cries out as if to say, where have you been for so long? I sent you out for fish hours ago! Three woolly chicks rise to their feet in anticipation of food. The osprey lands, and together the parents pull the fish apart to feed to their young.
The sun is starting to set. The breeze has cooled, and you wake from your dream of an osprey flying high over the land. It is time to leave the beach and head home. Out in the Gulf, a cumulus cloud has turned to fire opal, its interior lit by strikes of lightening. You walk up the beach, remembering your dream. You resolve that tomorrow you will make the dream come true. Like the osprey, you will embark on a journey, a journey to where the wild things are.

THE END