MaMaLiRZ

The day was perfect. Having had no plans, only drive we willed the last trip of the day into being. Sometimes you must trust that you are in the right place at the right time. Things forgotten or left behind are indicators from the next realm, putting you into a new dimension of time than what you would have been, had the things not been forgotten. The Navi that took us to another Waffle House instead of the Children’s Museum was the universe helping us arrive at Everglade’s City just in time to hustle across the bridge, turn left and drive to the end of the road. The five-minute drive left plenty of time to fill up our water bottles and use the facilities. All of which, had they not happened, would change the outcome of our day and our perspective and the prospective of our quest to 63 National Parks.

The time was 1:18pm and the date was July 26th. The sky blue with whispers of cloud. The wind’s gentle breeze swept our hair back from our faces and murmured the secrets of time. Louis, the boat captain, shared the history of the city in a calm, singsong voice. If you closed your eyes, you were back with the original inhabitants looking at the splendor and abundance of time’s past. When we opened them again, the dolphins were playing in the wake of the boat, as the alligator glided past unbothered by the human presence.

We muttered through the brackish waters to the only remaining sign of entry into our quest4-63! The Everglade’s National Park #1/63.

Louis continued his serenade as questions about the wildlife and conservation efforts streamed from my children’s mouths. We looked in awe. Roseate spoonbills, in flocks filled the mangroves. Their beautiful pink feathers in direct contrast to the greens of the seagrass and trees, and blues of the sky meeting the waters, surreal and almost unbelievable. We slid across the water, silenced now, witnessing the majesty. Enchanted by our surroundings.