Wednesday, May 4, 2011
About a mile from home is a preserve, Wakotahatchee. (It's a Seminole word that means "created waters"). And it was created, engineered, tucked into a space between walled-in subdivisions, minutes away from the countless Walgreens that sprout up overnight. But it's its own universe, that beautiful colaboration between nature and nurture that we dream so much about. When I go there this time of year, it's vibrating with new nests, baby birds, their parents calling to them, to eachother, balancing and bouncing on thin branches.
A cormorant lets me get too close
Flowers popping and bursting
Duckweed beginning to carpet the water's surface
The water wears the sky
Sun lights the fireflag.
The one obliging alligator drifts.