Preparing for Corkscrew NWR

So, it's come to this. We've gorged on wonderful food. We've given our bodies to Sol. We have weathered the myriad logistics involved with grown and teen children (some ours, some the children's entourages.) The airport personnel now know us by first name. Funds are running low. The condo pantry is nearly depleted. The Sanibel "Bean" purchases are slowing. The first wave of defectors is over. We are winding down to the nucleus. We start to think about the drive back home. Re-entry. School. College. Work. The imposition of external reality. Yes, it is coming to a close. BUT: not so fast. The spring migration has begun. And our last act is the Corkscrew day. The day we shift into the final delight that is the pristine swamp. I will acknowledge that not everyone is as enthusiastic as I am about this; but my family knows that I need that fix, and they humor me for the few hours that we spend in the eerily silent (albeit punctuated from time to time in some very odd ways)...such as the groaning roar of a twenty foot gator bellowing, or the slapping report of its massive tail. We don't expect to run into any bears, but some ten years ago I ran into one on the boardwalk trail! Mostly, we marvel at how close we can get to the twenty or so species of birds that we will encounter. For me, it's like a place apart, one that I can summon in my mind's eye throughout the year, offering me a solace and the comfort of knowing that there is wonder, beauty, and the potential, always, to call the natural, to be reassured in the constantly evolving universe, to participate, fully, in the majesty of the Green Fuse, the source and comfort from within and without. Let it shine. Hic finis est.