Wednesday, March 9, 2016

March 7, 2016 Hunting Island: Goobye and Thanks For All the Books

The sun rises over the silver ocean.  Where the jungle trail meets the sand split between the submerged dead trees and a shining dark pond, the ospreys have made a nest of sticks at the top of a tall dead tree.  A birder from Charlotte is there with a long lensed camera waiting for them to arrive.

A pair of cormorants is floating and diving on the pond. We watch them until they fly up, circle and land on the branches of a dead oak out in the ocean.

Other than the birder, the beach is empty. We have stayed in the light house cabin over night.

Yesterday, Pat Conroy, died in Beaufort Hospital.  His home was just here on Fripp Island.

This week, his brother, a neighbor of my son, John, said, "I have to go to Beaufort, to put my brother back into the river."

In the sand, I write:  "Goodbye Pat, And Thanks For All the Books"

By now, the water has washed my message away.

Monday, March 7, 2016

March 3, 2016 Colonial Dorchester State Historic Site

People walking across the grounds of this historic site are not wearing clothing for a day's walk or picnic. Instead they are dressed formally in dresses, suits and ties. They gather at the obelisk, an ancient brick structure of two stories in height with arched passages through it.  A wedding is taking place.

I am looking for the interpretive trail and ask a woman exiting her car with her brown and white English Spaniel, Bradley.  She points to the tabby fort and tells me to walk into it and through it out the other side and I will find a trail along the Ashley River.  The trail ends abruptly by the lovely green river.  There is a cormorant perched on a rock or piece of masonry in the flow.  Another dog walker (she has a Shitzu and a Yorkie) tells me in a New York accent, that the trail goes another way beyond the fort, but it goes into the woods and she was afraid to follow it.  I try that one and it also ends abruptly by the river.

Here, without trails, there is the old tabby fort, built in the 17th century, an architectural dig of the old town, picnic tables and a restroom, the brick obelisk, beautiful trees and the green flowing river.

I leave to find my way South towards Beaufort and in the outskirts of the town of Summerville, now clogged with traffic, there is a sign, advertising " GATOR RABBIT AND BUFFALO BURGERS.  There is no restaurant to be seen.  I take 165 for about 15 miles to the hamlet of Ravenel.  Along the way, pink and purple azaleas are in full bloom.

On Hwy 17, a small car passes, proclaiming on its back window:  "I Kayak, Therefore I Am".

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

March 1, 2016 Musgrove Mill State Park: A Birding Hotspot

A false spring, a haze and a temperature of 70 degrees. Daffodils are blooming. There is hope in the light air. There are new bird houses in the trees at Musgrove Mill State Historic Site.

There is a new Park Manager named Dawn Weaver who lets me in the locked office. She is about to go to the bank, but instead she takes me to the back porch and shows me the new bird feeding station where on one recent day, birders counted 200 birds.  Circling high in the air and screaming their screeching calls, are two hawks.  She tells me they may be about to mate.  They are, indeed, checking out the trees near the office for a place to build their home.  There are also a pair of eagles who live on the park grounds.

Dawn Weaver came a few months ago from Huntington Beach State Park, a coastal birding hotspot. She tells me of how she saw her first Roseate Spoonbill on her second day at the park. Some birders put her to the test to identify it. A few days later, a nine year old girl told her sadly that she was having to leave to go home without seeing a Roseate Spoonbill. Dawn took her to the place where she saw one before and could not find one.  Suddenly two of these beautiful pink birds flew by them and landed on the pond.

Before I go to walk the trail down by the Enoree, Dawn shows me the eBird website from Cornell Ornithology Labs.  Their maps now indicate Musgrove Mill as  birding hotspot.  People who watch birds can sign up at eBird.org and add their own lists of birds.

Before I hit the trail, she tells me that there is an area where the wild boars dug up the trail, but they have cleaned it up.  She says they only come out at night.

I am not afraid of the wild pigs.  I have met them before at Congaree National Park and found they had no interest in me whatsoever.

Don't go out in the woods  tonight
You're sure of a big surprise
If you go out in the woods tonight
You'd better go in disguise

If you go out in the woods tonight
You better not go alone
Don't go out in the woods tonight
It's safer to stay at home

For tonight is the night the wild boars have their picnic!

Plagerized from the song by Amarin Rose "The Teddy Bear's Picnic"