Two Islands and a Plantation

A little more than twelve years ago we visited Sanibel Island which I wrote about in this post. Twelve years!!  Having just looked it up, re-reading it confirmed my recollection of not having that great a time while there. Any place with biting bugs is not my fave. Anyway, reading that we were disappointed in the shelling is also how I remembered it. When last we met while you were reading this post, I was raving about our shell experience at Little Talbot Island following the recent tropical storm Nicole. 

There were a few others that day, combing the shoreline.

Chilly and windy, I approached her, asking if she knew anything about the shelling there. Grumpily, she replied no she did not. Well then. At least the photograph is kind of neat. (not me above) Sometimes when I am writing it occurs to me that I've not been as clear as I might and assumptions are made, thus my disclaimer!

With her being of no help, and Bruce chatting with a park worker, my eyes began scanning the accumulated shells that were at the very least 4" thick.

That's a bit of a hole I dug with my shoe and still I had not hit sand. 

Anyway, imagine how tickled I was when I scanned this nearby area.

It's not every day, well realistically, it is very rare to come across a perfectly intact sand dollar on the beach. Score! Later on that same park worker told us that people were picking them up like mad only a few days earlier! One was far more than I imagined I would come away with when we walked onto the beach in the gloomy weather.

Don't you just love it when a large shell fills with ocean water catching the tiny bubbles?

Apparently Little Talbot Island is a stopover for migrating birds according to a posted sign, however, we saw only a handful of birds including this large sandpiper called a Willet.

Handsome fellow isn't he? 

From there we continued about eight miles on A1A to Big Talbot Island State Park which could hardly have been more different. For one thing there is no camping, and nor is the beach all that accessible. What a beach it was though, once we walked the nearly one mile trail through the hardwood hammock.

I've known about Boneyard Beach for a long time, however we have been to this part of Florida so rarely we'd never before seen it in person.  Oh my goodness is it strange.

To walk amongst, basically petrified trees on a sandy beach, is really something, to say the least.  Never before having seen anything like it, words fail me.

Those roots to nowhere!! So many, many trees have fallen off the adjacent cliff onto the sand from erosion over the years. It is quite a sight. You can well imagine that I took far more photos than two, but we've more to discuss, so back to the car and going back the way we came, we decided to go to Kingsley Plantation as it was on the way. Well, sort of.

We drove along this sandy road for, I don't know how many miles,

passing massive oaks covered in moss.

Located on Ft. George Island, it is almost as old Florida as it gets. Reading this, I discovered that dirt road was only two miles long, but it sure seemed longer although it was in great condition. The provided link goes into far greater detail should you be interested. As you leave the parking area, this is the first building you see which had what seemed like pews inside. 

To the left of the building above, the main house comes into view and was certainly not what we were expecting. I took this photo on the front porch which details the age of the house as well as a little history.

It is set on the mighty St. John's River as is most everything in this part of the state, aside from what is set along the Atlantic Ocean.

Lightening up this part of the post just a bit, as we stood beside the house in a somber mood, I heard and saw some birdies in the tree above. Much to my surprise it was a flock of Cedar Waxwings, a bird that I am crazy for. In a bit of like playing "Where's Waldo", can you count ten yellow birds?

Around here we used to have several loquat trees that fed these beautiful birds on their migration South, however, rats like those same fruit and our residents aren't so partial to rats, thus the food source was removed. :(

One more photo of the house which had some descriptive plaques, but as it is not open every day, we did not learn quite as much as we might have liked.

In reality we learned more than we wanted to even think about.

Driving onto the property, there are the remnants of about 25 slave cabins and I don't have to tell you how horrible that feels.

No roofs remain aside from the one building. At first we thought the round holes were windows but as it turns out, they were part of building with what is called tabby, sort of a shell based concrete.

This page has an archived photograph of the cabins with roofs.   Thankfully we had to leave to catch the ferry for our return journey to the campground, both pretty shook up. We don't often think about slaves in Florida, rather other states because no one really thinks of Florida as the South, but now we know better.

Retracing our drive, we got to the ferry just in time to board and before long we were back at the campground where I had Bruce stop at beach entrance one where I popped out of the car for a look-see. Finally the sky was clearing! The grasses are flattened from the storm, and very few folks were out as the daylight was beginning to wane.

And the temperature was dropping! The forecast was for 40 degrees! Campfire weather!!

Yet another adventure the next day to recount in my next post although I can't belabor this trip much longer because all sorts of stuff is going on in the here and now! 

Christmas is coming you know.

your friend,

Gail