Six Stories Above Sea Level
- Wednesday, 29 March 2017
- Wellington Environmental Preserve, Palm Beach County, Florida
- Time 1105 EDT
- Elevation – Sea level
- 80F, partly cloudy, calm
It is a roughly one mile walk on a beautifully maintained winding path through the Wellington Environmental Preserve out to a lone standing structure. I reach the bottom and begin to climb. Sixty steps and six stories later I am at the highest level of an observation tower, giving me a magnificent view of the 365 acre facility, surrounding Palm Beach County and the edge of the Everglades. The city of Wellington in partnership with the South Florida Water Management District, built the facility in compliance with the 1994 Everglades Forever Act, which requires rainwater to be cleansed of phosphorus before it enters the Everglades.
The first thing I notice as I step on the top platform is that it is necessary to sidestep some orange, fruity, pulpy mess. Someone or something or some bird seems to have regurgitated a large amount of fruit. And while it is colorful it’s a reminder that not all that is observed is necessarily beautiful.
I set my small pack down on the opposite side of the platform, swill some icy water and begin to think about which direction I should look. The view is expansive, and bird life is abundant in the Preserve. Less than 100 yards from the southwest corner of the tower I see an alligator in the water! For locals this would be no big deal, but for a Coloradoan it is exciting. In shallow water he moves deliberately, churning up mud in his wake. He continues to snake his way in a southerly direction, then east. I’m reminded of any number of Disney movies, any one of sinister characters that create havoc on the peaceful creatures that live in the Preserve. He winds and wends his way around grassy sections in the water slowly moving toward two American Coots that are paddling about. As he gains on them he then stops, slowly sinking lower in the water, just his long nose above the surface. The Coots are on to his game and don’t take flight but stay a safe distance, ten yards ahead. He is looking right at the closer of the two. But there is a violent splash to the gator’s right as a fish breaks out of the water. The alligator immediately turns 90 degrees to his right swims a few yards and stops. The drama is over, the Coots move on, Mr. Gator is left to bask in the sun.
I move to the opposite side of the tower and look north. Birds and calls of birds dominate the scene. I watch a Great Egret make its way through the water, looking and fishing. Over the course of the hour I remark how the Egrets light upon vegetation in the swampy area, seeming as though they would rather not get their feet wet.
I move from side to side of the tower taking in the view, the beautiful day, the serenity of this area. To the west I notice a wake and see a second alligator moving through the waters. Over the course of the hour I see a smaller third gator and notice that the two larger ones cover a lot of area in the water and are very active, a remarkable difference in predator versus prey contrary to my previous week’s observations.
An osprey flys by at one point. Red winged blackbirds chime relentlessly overshadowing the softer coo of doves that are in the area. I spy a great blue heron off to the east, standing vigilant and at attention. To the north, I can see a woodpecker with a red spot on his head clinging to a bird box. Without my binoculars I cannot positively identify him. Also north, I seen a couple of common moorhens gliding in the water. Blue jays fly by and the area is also abundant with boat tailed grackles.
Further out in the water I see a limpkin and have decided that on this trip, the limpkin is my favorite bird. Over the past days there has been one sitting in a tree where I have been fishing at a canal. In the 1800’s European settlers found them so tame they supposedly could sometimes catch them in their nest.
At one point I am joined by a gentleman who has climbed the tower while his wife waits for him below, choosing not to ascend higher on this warm day. He tells me that on the walk in, of which he took a different route than I, they saw two juvenile alligators by the one catwalk. He tells me they still had their “stripes” indicating their age. Seeing I have a pad in my hand he asks if I am a researcher. I explain that no, I’m merely an observer of what is going on around me at the moment.
The hour comes full circle, the sun warming the day and high clouds creating enough of an effect so as to make it “not as hot”, but not really cool. The humidity of the area is refreshing compared to the 16% relative humidity Colorado has been experiencing in previous weeks. I make my way back down the steps of the high tower, a sentinel overseeing this edge of the Florida Everglades.