Making Friends at Church

     A couple of Sundays ago, I had the chance to meet a fellow blogger, Marilyn Kircus. I've been following her blog, Adventures of a Vagabond Volunteer, for some time now, as she documents her travels and volunteer work for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. I've enjoyed reading about Marilyn's encounters with wildlife, her hikes, her canoe trips, and even the more mundane work she has had to do. Many of the photos she has shared on her blog had me ready to throw the tent and sleeping bag into the back of the truck, lace up my boots, and head out west. Her stint at each refuge lasts several months, and when I heard she was going to be working this winter at the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge just south of here in North Carolina, I suggested a watery meet up at Merchant's Millpond State Park. I have been this place several times before, and hoped that she would find it as special as I do.

     I got there a little early, and the park was not open yet. Riding further down the road, I saw someone, camera in-hand, and knew it had to be Marilyn. We caught up with each other as mist rose over the pond's dam, and is as often the case with kindred spirits, we didn't stop talking until it was time to go, which is likely the reason Marilyn reported seeing so few birds in her account of the trip.

The Dam

This structure is a fish ladder that enables river herring to continue upstream.

     Just as was the case during my last visit to Merchants Millpond, the dark, tannin-rich water transformed its surface into a mirror. In these parts it has not been the most spectacular fall color-wise, but what little we did see was made twice as nice by the watery reflection.

Spanish moss (Tillandsia usneoides) has an affinity for bald cypress (Taxodium distichum).

Swamp Rose (Rosa palustris)

Parrot's feather (Myriophyllum aquaticum) might have a nice texture, but it is an exotic invasive.

Sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua)

Milepost 500

     I started blogging back in 2008, and I am finding it hard to believe that I have somehow managed to produce 500 posts. I know I have not produced 500 quality posts, but in this age of infographics, click-throughs, contact lists, tweets, virtual friends and short attention spans, 500 is not so bad. Lately I have been having trouble finding the time to be a good blogger. I know I have not posted as frequently as I once did, and I have, regretfully, not been able to keep up with what other bloggers have been doing as well. I am not normally one to make excuses, but I will anyway. I can equally blame lack of time, Facebook, at-home competition for the computer, and better things to do. So if you haven't seen me lurking around your blog recently, please don't feel slighted -
it's not you, it's me.

     Ironically, I have much blogging material to work with at the moment, including one more Colorado post from this summer, and I just got back from a photo-rich trip to south Florida. However, before I get to any of these posts, I did not want 500 to pass by unnoticed, even though that number is only significant because we make it so. I guess if our species had a different number of fingers on each hand, different anniversaries would be celebrated. And speaking of celebrating, just how does one mark 500 posts? How about with something completely random? We drove home from Florida yesterday, and as in any long road trip, random things are seen, random stops are made. In Lumberton, North Carolina we stopped to fill up our tank with the gasoline that would get us home. Someone at the station had been quite creative with the landscaping, especially with containers. Since sharing is the very essence of blogging, let me do so.

     The southern magnolia planters were the most interesting. The trees are actually planted in the ground, but the trunks are wrapped in black drainage pipe. There were a matching pair flanking the entrance to the service station.

    Whether this is your first visit,  your 500th, or more plausibly, something in between, I thank you for stopping by.

The Wild East

     The town of Carova Beach is as far north and as far east as you can be in North Carolina, and it is not easy to get to. Although it is only 33 miles as the seagull flies from my house, it is over 100 miles and nearly three hours away as the car drives, and not just any car. If you want to visit Carova Beach, you need to have a 4X4, as there are no paved roads in, or leading to, Carova Beach, so the last 10 miles of the trip have to be taken on the beach. You need to carefully pick your travel time so that the tide is not abnormally high, and you should go while it is light out to avoid hitting any of the ancient tree stumps remaining from when this beach was a forest, and you have to pack carefully because there are no stores in Carova so whatever you need has to come with you, and you should know what you are doing so your vehicle doesn't end up in the ocean or becomes one of those that overheats and catches fire burning all those carefully packed supplies, and if you go on a busy summer Saturday or Sunday you need to be mindful of all the people (many of them drunk) that have driven in their 4X4s to enjoy the beach.

     Carova Beach was once an enclave of free spirits, crusty watermen and people who generally like to like to be apart. In temperament these people are probably similar to the area's more famous residents, Spanish mustangs, who have been here since the earliest Colonial times. These wild horses once had run of the entire Outer Banks, but as development and pavement crept north, there were too many horse and vehicle accidents. So two fences were put up running from the ocean to the sound. One is on the south end where the pavement ends, and the other is right on the Virginia/North Carolina border, and this gives the horses about 7000 acres to roam. This past weekend when we pulled into the cottage where we were staying, there was a mare and her colt eating from the front yard scrub, seemingly unconcerned by our arrival. These days the older, modest family cottages and house trailers on stilts are dwarfed by million dollar oceanfront vacation rentals, but the horses don't seem to mind. I just hope the pressure from development doesn't change the wildness of Carova, or lead to paved roads, Applebees, t-shirt shops and horse fatalities.

     My Shower Buddy

     I apologize for the graphic pictures below, but if you have not heard, bottlenose dolphins are dying on the Atlantic coast. As of this week the total was 357 with 186 in Virginia alone. This one missed being #187 by half a mile. In the past few days the cause has been narrowed to morbillivirus, which is similar to measles in humans, though there are no vaccination clinics in the ocean. This situation causes me great sadness.

     The orange paint signifies that this corpse has been examined and recorded. Kind of like the X's on the houses after Katrina.

    I think we need something pleasant to look at now.

     This is the fence that separates North Carolina from Virginia, and it also keeps out the horses and the 4X4s.

     Humans, however, are always welcome. Let me hold the gate for you.

Sylvan Heights

     Since sometime last winter, two friends and I have been trying to match our schedules to visit Sylvan Heights Waterfowl Park in Scotland Neck, North Carolina. The 18 acre park houses a collection of birds from around the world, more or less grouped by continent. You can walk through most of the displays, enabling you to get up close and personal with the birds. Sylvan Heights is not just a zoo, it is also a breeding center for many species of waterfowl, including several that are critically endangered.  The price of admission was only $9, and it was worth every penny.

American Flamingo

 

Budgerigar Parakeet

Demoiselle Crane

 

East Indian Grey Teal

  

Indian Blue Peacock

Nene
 

Wreathed Hornbill 

Scarlet Ibis

 

Toco Toucan 

Abyssinian Ground Hornbill (How about those lashes?)