Showing posts with label Wakulla state park. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wakulla state park. Show all posts

Saturday, April 4, 2015

The Wakulla Forest

The Creek from Sally Ward Spring.

In the afternoon we took a walk in the Wakulla Springs Forest. The trail begins just on the other side of the guest parking lot. A boardwalk takes one around a small sinkhole before crossing the road, then enters the old-growth forest. Edward Ball purchased the property to preserve the forest around Wakulla Springs back in the 1930's. The irony of a financier who had made his money on paper mills which dictated the cutting of thousands of trees for pulp trying to preserve this particular forest did not escape us, yet we are all fortunate to enjoy his legacy.

The trail goes through about six miles of forest to reach the boundary of the state park, but it's not a loop, so however far one goes, one must walk back the same distance. We knew we didn't have the stamina to undertake the entire twelve-mile round trip, so the question was to gauge how far we could get before the prospect of our feet giving out and/or nightfall made returning imperative.

Fortunately the terrain was flat and the trail well-maintained. Wooden boardwalks took us over swampy areas where cypress knees abounded as we approached the bridge that crosses over Sally Ward Spring creek, which marks the first mile.


Cypress knees

On the other side of the bridge, the trail becomes more rugged, with tree roots breaking up the level ground. The immense size of the canopy overhead can best be appreciated at this time of the year (I was glad there were no insects to deal with). Huge southern magnolias (Magnolia grandiflora) grew amid oak, sweet gum (tupelo), bald cypress, pine, red maple and hickory trees of enormous size. To reach such size some of these trees had be about two hundred years old or more. Young cabbage palms grew in some of the seeps.


Hardwood forest with cabbage palms.


Magnificent Magnolia tree

We went deeper into the forest, passed the second mile marker and pushed on hoping to make it to the next bridge, reported to be around mile three. The vegetation on the forest floor varied depending on the tree canopy, from very open in drier ground to dense in other areas. We came across squaw-root (Conopholis americana) and other fungi here and there.

Squaw-root (Conopholis americana)

Oyster mushrooms with ferns on a log

We crossed a fire road with fences along both sides, and still no bridge in sight. We continued for another half mile or so as the afternoon waned, and still hadn't found the next bridge. It made sense to start back at this point, when our feet were beginning to feel stressed.

The walk back seemed to take less time. It's telling to me, that somehow the return trip always seems shorter than the trip going out. Is it because the return is familiar, where the initial exploration takes longer because one is looking around, perhaps subconsciously noticing any landmarks and other useful information that might be needed later on, or simply taking the time to enjoy new sights?

Squirrel in a tree

As we were returning we encountered a family group going out on the trail--it seemed a bit late to be starting on this trail but perhaps they weren't planning to go very far. Our feet were definitely feeling the five-mile hike by the time we reached the lodge. We didn't see any birds of note and the only animal we encountered on our hike was this sassy squirrel--we probably would have done better if we'd gone earlier in the morning or later, closer to dusk, when animals are more active.

I had just enough time to rest a bit in our room before going back to the previous afternoon's site to finish my watercolor. I'm afraid I rushed the second stage of the painting and it didn't come out as well as I'd hoped--the reflections in the water were too strong in color, particularly the Gamboge yellow. I went back and fixed some things the next morning, lifting the excess of color from the water. I don't find this painting as satisfying as the one I did on the Chazz, but hopefully it communicates some of the haunting atmosphere of Wakulla Springs. I'd love to return sometime in the spring to see the cypresses with new foliage, and bathe in the springs.

Wakulla Springs, watercolor, 10" x 14"