December! How did that happen? The usual seasonal holiday cues missed me in my Florida forest. So, the only thing significant about December this year is that my volunteer gig ends next week. Yes, time has passed too quickly.

I will always remember the fascinating creatures I encountered. Every day, I watched animal movements and habits, their sounds and mannerisms. The scientists out here do serious research and come to important conclusions, but I could not help that silly habit of assigning them human traits.

 

Funniest Animal in the Forest: Hen Turkeys! Every day, as I drove to the work station, I observed groups of turkey girls. I mentioned before that they are drama queens who run around, back and forth in stilettos. They fret and fuss, not sure where to dive into the forest when they hear my truck approaching. They choose a course, then at the last minute, they switch directions. Back and forth. Very high energy, very neurotic.

Most Exotic: Fox Squirrels. I never had a passion for squirrels, although I have reluctantly fed them dried corn to keep them from my bird feeders. Enter the fox squirrel. Its tail is even bushier than normal, like a fox. The fur is mottled and varies, unlike the common gray or brown squirrels who seem to be one color. A fox squirrel can be a mix of white, tan, charcoal, and gray fur. Face markings suggest heavy use of eyeliner and mascara. They pop out of nowhere, flash their gorgeous fur-draped selves, pose momentarily, then dash back into the forest.

Coolest: Gopher Tortoise. I love these guys. They wander around oblivious, then hunker down in sandy dens that are easy to spot.

Most elegant: Sand Hill Crane family. We have a family of resident Sandhill Cranes. The mom, dad, and junior hang out near the work area to glean corn and other goodies that researchers leave behind. They allow me to be a few feet away, although they are slowly moving in the other direction while I gawk. They walk– purposefully, elegantly, slowly—heads upright on impossibly long legs with skinny knee joints. They have such a stylish, proper red stripe around their head. The Cranes project such dignity and character, like an elder statesman preoccupied with saving the world.

Most magical: White-tail deer. I saw the same white-tails every day, often several times a day. I learned their individual markings and came to recognize family groups (females and offspring).  On occasion, usually in the evening dusk or the morning fog, I caught glimpses of a multi-colored, spotted individual. The markings were like those on a pinto pony. Because siting’s were so rare, I decided this deer was more spirit than animal. There is a fancy name for the rare spotted white-tail deer, but I preferred to think of him/her as a numinous presence. White-tail deer are magical to me for another reason. Imagine a forest of long-leaf pines. They do not have lower branches, just the clumps of leaves at the top. Because off this, the forest is more open than a ponderosa pine forest, for example. I can see across long distances, through the trees. When I approach an area with a group of white-tails back in the forest, they flee with their tails up. In fact, I may never see the deer, just the tails wagging through the trees. However, if the fleeing group is large enough, the many tails become giant wings flapping through the trees, like wings of 10 foot butterflies. The first time I saw this illusion I was startled, but the next time, I realized it was simply a large group of white tails flapping by.

Messiest: Wild Pigs. Rural Florida is home to wild pigs, whose relatives escaped from early settler’s farmsteads. The pigs are small, say 50-60 pounds and without much body fat. They run in packs and dig up huge areas of land, looking for tubers and yummy fungi. When I was at Cedar Key walking in the coastal scrub reserve, I saw another large area where they had rooted around. The site is unmistakable.

Most efficient: Wading birds, like the Ibis, Egrets, Herons. They too seem elegant but they are built for mercilessly nabbing food. They typically have long skinny bills, which they jab into the muddy shoreline, spearing something yummy nearly every time.

Ugliest; Alligator. Poor gators. They are leftovers from ancient history without anyone to play with. Huge, ugly, mostly immobile, a brain the size of a walnut.  At another preserve, I saw piles of gators, laying around doing nothing. A few were in the water, presumably hunting for food, but even that activity is passive. They float, with only their eyes and maybe their snout visible to a human eye. When a meal presents itself, they grab it in their immense jaws. Done. Gators need to get a job and trim down a bit if they want to be contributing members of society.

Best-Dressed: Pileated Woodpecker. This is one of the coolest birds ever, and I saw them on a regular basis around my campground. They were not hyper like Woody the Woodpecker. They were efficient as they pecked around in the trees, making little noise. A pleasant and good-looking neighbor.

Craziest: Eastern Screech Owl and Barred Owls. Their songs are neither owlish nor comforting, like the Great Horned Owl’s classic whooooo, whoooo, hooo. The Eastern Screech Owl sounds like a horse in extreme pain, while the Barred sounds more like a rooster. Both are somewhat active in the daytime, and on many occasions, I felt something watching me then turned around and looked up into the trees where a barred sat calmly watching me.

Nightmare Creature: Chiggers, mosquitos. Yesterday I was a crabby mess of chigger bites and poison ivy. I found chigger bites in my ears, on my butt cheeks, on the top of my feet and at the back of my knees. I had volunteered to pick up trash near the entrance gates and along fences that border the state road. I want to leave everything tidy before I leave. After that, the place looked much better, but my pants were covered with small flat seed pods that would not come off. The next morning, my body was burning with bites and poison ivy. My time here is nearly over, yet this is the first time for poison ivy and such widespread bites. Take that you crazy Yankee. Go home.

This is not my leg, but most of my body looked like this.

Most unique: Armadillo. Crazy nocturnal critter! They are deaf and just wander, clueless to the external world, as they nose through the forest litter looking for a snack. Many people here don’t like armadillos, but I like because they are unique and non-conformist.

Sweetest: Green lizards. These little critters are bright emerald green. I don’t know their official name but I enjoyed playing with them. Sometimes, when pulling weeds around a building or raking sand around a flower bed, the little guys would jump out from their cover and strut. Look at me. Emerald green, cute, harmless. I love little lizards. Each type I encountered was friendly as can be.

howdy Jane, what ya up to?

Best forest friend: The Great Horned Owl is everywhere in the US, including my pine forest. Because I hear them nearly everywhere I go, they are like a good friend. Their distinct whoooooo brings me comfort and joy

Biggest loudmouth: Carolina Wren. As I have written elsewhere, these smallish birds have a big mouth. I heard them regularly for a few months but now, nothing.

Most insane bird: A cardinal pair lived in the trees above my campsite at Cedar Key. The beautiful red male was mellow but that duller female (coloring and IQ) was literally insane. Right? If you do the same thing over and over with the same unsatisfactory result, one is crazy. This female cardinal bashed against both rearview mirrors on the van. Often, Repeatedly. She perched on the ledge formed by the windows (either side) and flung herself at her reflection in the mirror. Alternatively, she perched on top of the mirror and looked down at her reflection, then executed a triple toe twist and again attacked her reflection. Over and over. I heard her beak endlessly strike the mirrors and wondered how it survived the bashings. The mirrors were marked from her attacks but not scratched; they cleaned right up with a dab of Windex.

Unseen creatures: no doubt, the most interesting creatures are those I have never seen: venomous snakes. I am happy that I avoided getting bit, but am sorry I did not see the Eastern Diamondback or the Coral Snake. From a distance. While in my truck or the 6-wheeler, with a camera nearby. I have seen many snake tracks in the sand, but only a few harmless guys dashing into the scrub.

Snake tracks

These are only a few of the critters that reside on the station. Sad to be leaving this beautiful place. Perhaps you can see now why I am never really alone.