Hello and welcome to the very sunny state of Florida.
I have been living here for a couple of
years now, a very different experience from our UK home in beautiful Edinburgh,
and I wanted to capture some of my impressions of this unique place before we move on. Two
years into our stay is an odd time to start a diary but better late
than never as they say!
Vero Beach is a small but perfectly packaged town situated roughly
half way up the east coast of the state, not well known to tourists but a
magnet for snowbirds in the winter months with a gorgeous beach which we are
fortunate enough to live close by. I timed myself on my morning walk today and
it takes 2 minutes 52 seconds from my front door to the sand so when I say close
I know what I am talking about.
One of the best things about living here is an early morning stroll on the beach. If you can get to the beach at sunrise it is a fabulous sight. You are also a better person than I am as I rarely make it that early, but I can be there pretty early – before breakfast at least and I feel good about that. (Side note: In America you are absolutely allowed to feel good about yourself, in fact it is a requirement.)
We
live on a long sweep of the bay with a wide stretch of sand; an accreting beach
(ahem! Florida master naturalist here).
On this particular morning there was a line of clouds on the horizon initially
hiding the sun and lending the water a metallic sheen and two dolphins were
circling around on the hunt for their morning meal.
I generally turn right onto the beach and head south, away
from the town. There is no public beach access on this stretch. On a crowded
morning you may meet 4 or 5 others walking the beach but if you are lucky you
will have it all to yourself. The
beach is backed by beautiful million dollar homes discretely nestled behind the
dunes. The views from their houses must be fabulous but if you are prepared to
walk for 2 minutes 52 seconds to get your sand fix you can save a whole lot of
money.
Turtles
come up to nest this time of the year so you never know how many tractor-like
trails you will see first thing.
This morning I was lucky and two loggerheads had come up and
nested. For some reason the
loggerheads seem to be flagging in energy this year and only make it just past
the high tide mark before they dig their nests. The green turtles on the other hand, of which we have many
this year, are much more sprightly.
They have huge wide tracks and wander up to the back of the beach, a not
inconsiderable distance, have a thoroughly good time flinging the sand around
to make an enormous nest site and then go on a wander through the back dunes
before wearily dragging themselves down to the ocean again.
That is their one and only contribution to the raising and well being of
their offspring whom they never see again. They could bump into each other in the surf zone one fine
morning and would not recognize each other. As a mothering strategy it seems a little lazy to me but I
can see that it has its merits.
There is usually a collection of sanderlings scurrying about
the waterline, following the waves back and forth. As the waves recede they rush to the water’s edge and
frantically drill into the sand with their fine long black beaks in search of
sand fleas and then charge back up the beach as the waves advance almost, but
never quite, knocking them off their feet. They expend so much nervous energy they are quite exhausting
to watch.
It is a good excuse to sit down and watch ‘the boys’ coming
over the island from the lagoon on their early morning patrol of the
shoreline. These are the brown
pelicans that fly in single file along the beach just above the water and every
now and again move up and down as if going over an invisible speed bump in the
air. Playing follow the leader,
once the first pelican goes over the air bump the others follow suit when they
reach the exact same spot. How do
they know to do this? I haven’t a
clue.
There is a recent new addition to the beach crew – a rather
gorgeous yellow crested night heron, strutting around looking as innocent as
the sunrise. But I am not fooled; I
have his number. He is on the look
out for newly hatched turtles for his breakfast. I would love to chase him away
but all I can do is watch and feel virtuous in knowing that no matter how he
preens he will never be my friend.
If all of the above sounds idyllic I have one warning to
sound when walking the beach in the Florida summer months. When I set off in the mornings for my
stroll I look reasonably normal (if sleepy and perhaps a tad dishevelled). But beware of the mirror when returning
home. I took a peak once, before
my shower, and beheld Einstein looking back at me with all the frizz that
statement implies, minus the brains of course. I was also going to add minus the moustache but I am 52
years old and, ladies, you know what I am talking about.
Catch you later
Carol
