If she lived here, my friend said, she would pack up a book and go to the beach every day. We were on Honeymoon Island at the time, and I had to wonder how it was that it had taken me so long to go to the beach there. A lovely beach that stretched as far as the eye could see, and not so many people or commotion as the more commercial areas. On this day it was windy and the surf looked like it might be tricky, but not many people were braving the chill.
I had an ulterior motive for bringing her to Honeymoon Island. It was the home of the more visible owl nest I’d been told about. I had been there to see the owls a couple of years ago, and all I remembered about that was that you had to walk a long way on the trails to find the nest. But once you found it the nest was in the open, much less of a challenge to photograph than the elusive nest at Philippe Park. There are two owlets in this nest, but only this little guy was checking us out. An adult was barely visible in a nearby tree.
There is an eagle nest on Honeymoon Island also, and we were hiking there with a very helpful visitor we had met, but we decided that the mosquitos we encountered on that part of the trail were enough to make us turn around, We did see ospreys on nests though, lots of them.
And there were the inevitable stops on the way up and down the road. The snowy egret with her golden slippers was a hit.
And I always wonted to make one of these signs for my yard, with arrows pointing to all the places I found dear to me, but all the arrows would point in the same direction. North.
A Snowbird's Life Through the Lens 