For all who wanted to see those birds...

Now that Florida has begun to dry up like a contracting prune, the birds have left our yard. The sounds of the wood storks, egrets, ibis and heron have been replaced by the stench of rotting fish and brackish water.

The weather has been lovely this fall. I find it hard to say this as I have constantly lamented the lack of cold air and changing leaves in Southwest Florida. But this fall we turned off our air conditioner a month ago and haven't had it on since... until now. 

It is still in the 70's during the day and gets down into the 50's at night but the stench was so bad I had to close up the windows. I didn't turn on the air until bedtime; it ran once to cool the house down a little and did not run again all night. When I took the dogs out in the morning, the smell was like a foul slap in the face.

Yesterday we escaped our malodorous bit of Florida by taking the kids canoeing in Estero Bay. It is a reasonably quick drive around the bay and whenever I get my first glimpse of the Gulf over the rise of the road, I invariably remember what I like about Florida and why it is growing on me after all the years we spent apart. 

We launched our canoe at Big Hickory Island in an overused spot between some dense mangroves. It was low tide and by the time we meandered out into the south part of the bay we were able to stop on some tiny mangrove islands and walk out onto sandbars in the water. 

Large fish would lunge from the water and land, smack, on their sides. The live Lightning Whelks (invertebrate animals that form a single shell in which they live), covered in beautiful whorls, were numerous as were their strings of eggs rooted in the underwater sand. There were also an incredible number of round jellyfish the size and shape of large translucent marshmallows sitting immobile among short, algae-covered water grass. 

At this point, we were practically immobile as the jellyfish. We had paddled quickly through the boat lane and ended up in some very shallow water surrounding a mangrove island. It took a lot of brute strength, laughter and a wobbling canoe to get us out into deeper water. 

Despite the swamp stench and the summer humidity (which, for the record, is no worse than a good Midwestern summer day that lasts for four months) Florida is growing on me; even more so because this fall I actually have occasion to wear a sweater. Furthermore, my in-laws gave us this fabulous canoe so we have the means to paddle around a little (at times a little too up close and personal with the gators).

For those of you who wanted to come see the birds in our yard... They may have moved on to wetter parts of the swamp but I think we could manage to show you some really great parts of Florida!