The S-R ‘Ten’ Revisited

S-R Ten turns Fourteen!

I must make some corrections, regarding a post I made mid-2024 when I wrote a post called The S-R Ten, regarding some free and, in some cases, important albums I picked up as a new high school graduate at the local newspaper. I’ve since discovered there were more than ten, and here’s one I can’t believe I forgot to name:

Homespun by Richard Supa

An album which never gained traction. Summer 1972.

Richard Supa hit my radar only because of this album. When I used Wikipedia a few years back to find out about him, I was surprised to see he worked with Aerosmith, The Rascals, Richie Sambora, Mika, and Ozzy Osbourne. Though he released four albums, he never got popular acclaim. He’s most closely associated with Aerosmith for filling in at guitar and co-writing some of the band’s songs, including the hits “Chip Away the Stone”, Lightning Strikes”, “Amazing”, and “Pink”. He also wrote for Johnny Winter. I’m pretty sure I read somewhere else that like many of that period, he had a bit of an tussle with drugs. This perhaps is indicated by the fact he is now director of creative recovery at a treatment center “where he uses music to help addicts in recovery.” [Wikipedia]

As best I’ve been able to tell from a survey of the albums in my digital library (approximately 1700 albums), there were three others:

Don’t It Drag On by Chris Smither

A prolific folk/blues artist who started in the mid-1960’s.

This was Smither’s second album, having joined the 60’s folk scene late, comparatively. Bob Dylan had already “gone electric” to the horror of his purist folk-fans. As an 18-year-old I didn’t quite know what to make of this album. In the past 20 years I learned Smither has risen to quite the stature in the folk/bluegrass/blues world. I’ve wondered at times if his unusual voice with more than a bit of ‘croak’ in it might have helped him along. I’ve found myself humming lines from his songs throughout my life, when circumstances suggested it. “Send me rich ones, and young ones in their twenties…” from “Lonesome Georgia Brown”.

Tenterfield Saddler by Peter Allen

Another odd fit in the pantheon of musicians from the early 1970’s.

I have a visual memory of watching Peter Allen on some TV special, cranking out his pop songs at a grand piano. He’s wearing one of those weird jumpsuit things that men wore in the mid-1970’s. I cannot say when I watched it, but I’m thinking it was around 1979 or 1980 because of his 1979 Up In One concert tour which I believe aired on Australian TV and therefore could’ve been picked up by PBS here. Regardless, this album has so many quirky pop songs on it, I couldn’t stop humming them. “Somebody Beautiful Just Undid Me”, “I Can Tell A Lie (But I Just Can’t Sing One)”, and the hauntingly sad “Harbour”. Allen did much better with his songwriting than his singing. He wrote Olivia Newton-John’s “I Honestly Love You” and Christopher Cross’s song “Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do)” from the move Arthur. Given that I knew he was gay, I was surprised to learn his first marriage was to Liza Minnelli. (It was her first, also.) And here’s a peculiar little factoid from Wikipedia: “In 1998, a musical about his life, The Boy from Oz, debuted in Australia. It ran on Broadway and earned Hugh Jackman the Tony Award for Best Actor in a Musical.”

Long John’s Blues by Long John Baldry

Thanks to the extensive liner notes, I learned early of the large impact Baldry made on the British music scene which took American music and spit it back out at us.

I loved this album and still do but for different reasons. At the time, it opened my mind to how jazz and blues melded and worked their way into rock ‘n’ roll. I also had just started to learn about the melting pot of talent in Britain which had transformed popular music in America just as I started listening to it around 1965. Now I love it because of its place in the history of rock and blues, because of the songs themselves, and because I just like his musicianship.

Baldry joins John Mayall and a couple of other guys (Alexis Korner for one) who were the foundation of the entire British rock scene. Rod Stewart and Elton John were members of bands led by Baldry, and Mick Jagger, Jack Bruce, and Charlie Watts played with Baldry in the Alexis Korner Blues Incorporated band. (Keith Richards and Brian Jones played with them at times.) I love the genealogies of British music at this time. Baldry joined the Cyril Davies R&B All Stars in 1963. Davies died, and Baldry took over the group and renamed it Long John Baldry and his Hoochie Coochie Men. Hence this album. Rod Stewart sang with this band, and Nicky Hopkins played keyboards. These two were in an iteration of the Jeff Beck Group. By 1965 Brian Auger was playing the Hammond organ with them. (Brian Auger’s Oblivion Express anyone? He played with Jimi Hendrix, Eric Burdon, Sonny Boy Williamson, and John McLaughlin, among others.)

It all intertwines. When Baldry decided to return to his edgier blues style, he recorded what became It Ain’t Easy which included his US minor hit, “Don’t Try To Lay No Boogie-Woogie On The King Of Rock and Roll”. By that time Stewart had a semi-successful thing going with The Faces and had launched a solo career; soon he would issue Every Picture Tells A Story. Stewart came on board to produce the record. When he encountered Elton John at a party, the guy he and Baldry had played with before, John came on board to produce also, plus he contributed a lot of the piano work. Ronnie Wood (Jeff Beck Group, Faces, and The Rolling Stones) played guitar. This is becoming like an episode of Connections. We’ll stop.

Although the record I grabbed in that pressroom long ago was released at the end of 1971, apparently, it didn’t hit Spokane until the summer of 1972. On it one can hear how those steeped in the British music hall tradition (Paul McCartney, anyone?) listened to American blues and bluesy jazz and molded it into something a bit different. Oddly the Wikipedia article’s lead paragraph doesn’t mention Baldry’s minor hit from It Ain’t Easy. It also doesn’t specifically recognize this album that I’ve highlighted, the closest being Looking at Long John Baldry: The UA Years 1964-1966 which was issued in 2006. I’m guessing it’s the same album?

Streaming and Missing Out: A Christmas Tale

To the Reader: with apologies, I’ve decided to catch up to some drafts which never reached publication. Or should I apologize to myself? By dumping several lengthy posts on the same day, I’m just about guaranteed less readership…

I’ve sadly realized my 7-10 year love affair with streaming music appears headed for the “let’s be friends” stage. I just finished listening to Adeste Fidelis recorded by The Choir of Westminster Cathedral and released in 1993 by The Musical Heritage Society, and now I’m listening to The Martin Best Ensemble’s album Thys Yool: A Medieval Christmas released in 1988 on Nimbus Records. I purchased both on CD, ripped them more than a decade ago, and I’m listening to them using MediaMonkey, my jukebox program of choice for over 20 years. Soon I’ll move on to another Christmas album, played again through MM instead of streaming it. Why is any of this important? Because I’m not streaming them, and I fell in love with streaming during the pandemic.

Finding both of these albums on Tidal (and Spotify before I switched) proved difficult. A search right now in Tidal using “Martin Best Ensemble” and variants produced no such artist. Only when I searched for “Thys Yool” did the album pop. I performed these searches on a desktop with a full keyboard—I would hate to do this on my phone or tablet. The former album doesn’t seem to exist on Tidal. I can find only four albums by The Choir of Westminster Cathedral, despite Discogs listing 91 distinct albums dating back to the 1950’s. All four seem to duplicate each other closely; in essence it’s four variants of one album.

I could mark these albums as Favorites, and in the case of Thys Yool I have done so, but it’s useless: at some point in the past year or so, the overlords at Tidal decided that the Albums collection will show users not only the albums they’ve specifically tagged as Favorites, but every album they’ve ever played, and in reverse chronological order! Thus, to find this album I would need to scroll through every album I’ve listened to since last Christmas. My year-end report from Tidal doesn’t tell me how many unique albums I streamed, only the number of unique artists.

And tagging the Westminster album as a Favorite wouldn’t do me any good since it doesn’t exist. Oh, sure, I could search for “Adeste Fidelis” — I’m sure it won’t produce too many hits, right? Okay, just to humor you, I’ll do it. There are 106. Scrolling through them…sonuva…there it is! Only took five minutes or so to find it. Didn’t pop because in this iteration the artist is “Westminster Cathedral Choir” not “The Choir of Westminster Cathedral.” Undoubtedly Tidal didn’t obtain rights to the MHS version of the album where the artist name appears differently.

No, I’ve reached that stage in any doomed relationship where you just can’t overlook the other’s faults and those faults loom large. I’ve just described my difficulties keeping in touch with favorite artists and albums from the 60 years I’ve been collecting music. During that time (pre-streaming) I’ve collected nearly 1700 albums over those 60 years of musical pursuit, and these hold about 19,000 unique tracks. Discounting about ten percent which I would never listen to and are there because my wife wanted them there, or they represent some passing fancy of mine, that’s around 17,000 tracks I want to stay in touch with. I can’t just surface some artist’s name or a particular song at will. This was brought back to me by a drive I completed December 30th from Fredericksburg, VA, to our home in Raleigh. We took a ‘back way’ suggested by Google Nav and at one point we drove a mile on Ghoston Rd. Suddenly a song called “Goshen Road” popped into my head. I came by the album Homespun by Richard Supa the summer of 1972. Until I got home and listened to the album, I hadn’t listened to it in years. Not surprisingly, I today I can’t find it on Tidal—I didn’t bother to try a couple days ago. (Dang! I need to update the S-R Ten! Only I guess it isn’t Ten anymore.)

Finding it in MediaMonkey took all of a few seconds once the program loaded. I have used MediaMonkey since 2005 because it handles large libraries with aplomb. Tidal, Spotify, whatever service you want to name, have interfaces which just aren’t as useful, nimble, and quick as a desktop-based jukebox program. (It does have a mobile version.) MM retains the old-school look popular with jukebox programs from decades ago, and I make it more so by choosing a classic look then modifying it further:

What I listened to when starting this post. December 2025. A newer version of the program has an updated interface.

MediaMonkey layers database tools over a simple view of folders and files, similar to File Explorer. Judicious tagging when adding the music allows one to find music by genre, any of the performers, album title, and composer. MM really shines in the case of classical music, providing a more composer-centric set of tools and the ability to find music based on the conductor of a particular orchestra. Could streaming sites do this, and do it better? Yes, but the album/artist/composer/director has to be there in the first place! Reference my comments above.

When I ask MediaMonkey to show me music by artist, I get what you see in the left pane above. There are 43 artists listed there. (You’re welcome; now you don’t have to count them.) With a quick scroll of the mouse wheel I can see dozens and dozens more; I can jump to a specific location in the alphabet if I just drag the little slider on the right of that pane. You just can’t get through your Tidal artists that quickly. (It’s the same for Spotify, et al, so let’s assume every time I say “Tidal” I mean all of them.) I have over 2000 artists in my personal music collection. There’s no way I would ever “favorite” that many on a streaming service, but could I remember them to search for the ones I didn’t?

I’ve spent my life trying to NOT remember lists and lists of things. Even as a student in public school, if I didn’t look at a list, I didn’t know whether I had homework or not. I carried this to the many desks I’ve used in my life: if it ain’t on top, I better have another method for remembering something because just filing it away means I’ll never see it again. Likewise, I can’t surface the name of every artist, song, or album I’ve liked in my life. We’re all like that to a certain extent. Just think how someone will mention a TV show or song from 20 years ago, and your reaction goes something like, “Oh yeah! I forgot all about that! Gosh, I loved that [show/song].”

Streaming services want you to stream many, many artists, wending your way from song to song, artist to artist, discovering playlists you like…anything to keep you on the site. They create many barriers to any user who simply wants to listen to specific artists, albums, and songs. When they take away our ability to scroll through a list of favorite artists or favorite albums, or modify them to make it more difficult and less helpful, they also take away our ability to remember that we like these artists and albums. Sure, I can remember The Beatles, Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, and David Bowie, to name a few of my top favorites, but I removed a name I almost typed over there, Rick Estrin & The Nightcats, because not long ago I remembered a song of theirs and couldn’t remember the exact name of the band. When a streaming service asks us to remember a name of an artist, album, or song prior to retrieving it for us, it excludes all of those artists, albums, and songs which we can’t remember right now. The jukebox program doesn’t have this problem. Simply scroll up and down your list of artists and the names slide by, each one saying, “listen! listen to me!”

Perhaps the worst aspect of streaming services when discussing how difficult it is to find albums is this: many albums just aren’t there, particularly classical recordings. And good luck finding a complete recording of most tribute albums. I suppose the service couldn’t get releases from all of the artists on the recording? Try finding Woodstock on any streaming service. Individual artist performances have been brought to Tidal, but not the original album (or the excellent Rhino Records 6-CD collection which came out in 2009 to mark the 40th anniversary of the festival). There’s a tribute to Elton John called Two Rooms containing some great covers, including a truly haunting cover of “Tonight” performed live by George Michael. The Michael performance can be found under his name, but the tribute album cannot be found on the site…at least when last I looked for it.

There. Thanks for allowing me to rant. When a relationship hits the rocks, a guy just needs a friend, a drink, and a chance to spew. I think I need a drink….

Last night out: Savannah, GA

We’ve been to Savannah several times, at least twice directly on the riverside waterfront. I had forgotten how steeply the banks rise from the Savannah River. Our hotel is pictured (badly) below.

River Street Inn, Savannah, GA. March 2026.

The green-painted storefronts are street level on this, the south side of the building. This however is the 4th floor because it is numbered from the north side where ships sail up the Savannah River to unload their containers and/or pick up new ones.

The *Zim Aires* on the Savannah River. March 2026.

Indoors, one reaches street level by elevator. Outdoors? The steps are described as “historical” because I guess the tourism bureau vetoed “dangerous”.

Historical steps in Savannah, GA. March 2026.

I like to splurge the last night out, and The River Inn didn’t disappoint (unlike the places we ate). The Manager’s Reception with open bar proved especially nice! The rooms have been carved out of what was an old warehouse.

Inside The River Inn in Savannah, GA. March 2026.

A crummy breakfast (from a restaurant related to but not managed by the hotel) sent us on our way through the Carolinas to home. A wonderfully satisfying and varied trip!

Today’s playlist

Sometimes the music deserves to be publicized.

First, my “daily suggested playlist” included these highlights: “No One Is To Blame” by Howard Jones; “Circle” by Edie Brickell & The New Bohemians; “Your Own Sweet Way” by The Notting Hillbillies; “Weather With You” by Crowded House; and “Seeing Things” by The Black Crowes.
An aural perusal of The Notting Hillbillies’ sole album, Missing…Presumed Having A Good Time. A weird side trip by Mark Knopfler.
[probably something in here I’m forgetting]
Antenna Head, ZZ Top, but I bailed after “PCH”
“Locomotive Breath” by Jethro Tull
“Barracuda” by Heart
“The Battle of Evermore” by the Lovemongers (still one of my all-time faves, and certainly better than Led Zeppelin’s)
Loud Hailer by Jeff Beck. All of it.

Two sides of St. Augustine

Look To The East, From The Sand…

One Day, In A Room With A View…

On March 2nd, the dawn struck the city first…

…and slowly made its way across the Matanzas River toward us…

The Matanzas River and south-central St. Augustine at dawn. March 2, 2026.

Traffic into the city (and drivers) snarled every time the drawbridge rose…

Florida shorebirds used the shifting shadows to hide their predation…

A Great Egret stalks its prey. March 2, 2026.

Some worked the waters together…amicably or not…

Great Egret and White Ibis. March 2, 2026.

After a “look to the East” one craves liquid refreshments. St. Augustine obliged. Meanwhile, the day drew to a close…

The same boats illumined at dawn changed in the reddening skies…

Night descended. The Bridge of Lions looked similar to the previous night, but not the same…

The Bridge of Lions at night. March 2, 2026.

Lights from The Bridge of Lions danced across the water as we headed to bed. Goodnight, St. Aug. Thanks for the day…

Royal Palm Visitor Center

Florida Red-bellied Turtle (or Red-bellied Cooter?) with male Anhinga. February 2026.

When I think of the Everglades National Park’s Royal Palm Visitor Center I immediately see two visions in my mind: a parking lot full of vultures and Anhingas. The first vision includes a non-identified carcass suspended from a lamp pole which supposedly kept the Black Vultures from eating the rubber off of your car’s windshield wipers. The second one looks like this:

Male Anhinga at Royal Palm Visitor Center. March 2010.

I snapped this photo on our previous visit to the ‘Glades in 2010, printed it out when we got home, and admired it for some years after. It represents what I like about southern Florida in general and the Royal Palm Visitor Center in particular: a person can get very close to many remarkable birds, reptiles, and amphibians. Here are some from our recent trip, which like the first one, didn’t disappoint…

Female Anhinga with fish. February 2026.

We had barely arrived to the center when we watched a female Anhinga stab a fish. She then spent five minutes or more attempting to figure out how to get it off of her beak without losing the fish altogether. She did eventually succeed. The photo looks strangely colored because I heavily tweaked the contrast parameters to bring out the fish.

A beautiful Peters’s Rock Agama. February 2026.

Sadly, the photo above shows a gorgeous male Peters’s Rock Agama. Sad because it’s an invasive species from Africa that’s out-competing local lizards. Yes, there are two S’s because it’s named after a biologist named Peters. He’s perched atop a rock wall bordering the walking area outside the center itself. In other words, it only took a bit of telephoto and my being ready to snap the shot when he stopped for a second. They’re skittish.

In the center of the walk visitors can access several viewpoints around a large, lily pad-choked pond. Surveying the pond, one can pick out alligators here and there…

Lily pads with gator. Royal Palm Visitor Center, Everglades National Park. February 2026.

Sharper eyes spot turtles…

Everglades National Park. February 2026.

And running across the lily pads are the most striking little birds! Behold, the Purple Gallinule:

Purple Gallinule (adult). Bright yellow legs not shown. Everglades National Park. February 2026.

When birds abound I tend to ignore the rest of my photographic subjects. I apologize to myself, and I promise to make something of a few of those photos which haven’t made the cut this time. To carry on, though: I had a good time “stalking” this Green Heron in an attempt to get a shot where it held still.

Green heron. Everglades National Park. February 2026.

One benefits in several ways when a visit to the Everglades occurs in the so-called winter months. It’s usually warm enough for shirt sleeves; mosquitoes have disappeared; manatees congregate in the warmer waters near the shore where people can see them (sorry, no good photos of those, I’m afraid); and in late February and March young fledglings have been born. This striking set of shots caught me by surprise. I’ve never seen a family of Anhingas before. Frustratingly, they were located across the pond and partially hidden in the branches of the trees. I don’t usually publish out-of-focus photos but this old man couldn’t get the shot at that zoom level with no tripod/monopod or grip.

Female Anhinga with juvenile. Everglades National Park. February 2026.

Female Anhinga with two fledglings. Everglades National Park. February 2026.

Female Anhinga and juvenile. Everglades National Park. February 2026.

As we left the pond and headed back to the parking lot, I looked for the little gator we’d seen on our way out. Only three to four feet long, it had found refuge in a shallow bit of water no large alligator would deign to look at. It had disappeared, found its way elsewhere just as we planned to do. Will I visit again? Unsure. There are so many places to go in the world. It had been 16 years since our previous visit; 16 more years and I’ll be looking at my 88th birthday (Lord willing). Tough to say.

Small alligator in a few inches of water. Everglades National Park. February 2026.

Back to the ‘Glades

View from Shark Valley Visitors Center, Everglades National Park. There are two alligators in this photo. February 2026.

Technically we re-entered the Everglades National Park at the end of our day in the Big Cypress National Preserve, stopping at the Shark Valley Visitors Center at the end of the afternoon. We didn’t want to take the tram ride to the actual Shark Valley viewing tower, which left us little to do there. Another hour brought us to Homestead, FL. I discovered a Cuban restaurant next door which delighted me a great deal. But first, where are those alligators in the photo above? Look up that slough in the center of the photo. On the far bank? Just above the light-colored shoreline? Here’s a zoomed in photo:

Alligators at Shark Valley Visitors Center. February 2026.

We hit up the Cuban restaurant for breakfast, easily besting the hotel’s “continental” offering, then headed to what I still regard as the heart of the Everglades—the Ernest F. Coe and Royal Palm Visitor Centers and the road which leads deeply through the park until it reaches Flamingo where one can stare southward at the Florida Keys. We arrived just as the Coe center opened then headed southward.

Huevos rancheros, Cuban-style: plantain pancake under the egg and a fruited salsa atop. February 2026.

After spotting a half dozen or so school buses in parking lot, we decided to visit Royal Palm at the end of our day, on the way back out of the park. Quietly spotting wildlife with a hundred or so elementary students alongside (we checked) seemed to be mutually exclusive. We stopped at some of the major sights on the way south, a few on the back out.

A juvenile heron. Not sure which one. Looks like a Black-crowned Night Heron, but those don’t have the yellow/orange beak. Closest I can come would be a Tricolored Heron but it doesn’t seem to be quite like this patterned brown. February 2026.

Small drainage creek at the Pa-Hay-Okee Lookout Tower, Everglades. February 2026.

My wife spotted a heron jumping in and out of the darkness of a creek at Pa-Hay-Okee Lookout (left and above). I needed a telephoto to see what she was talking about!

We spotted a barred owl at the Mahogany Hammock walk. While watching him (nearly positive this was a male), we were treated to a call-and-response with an owl we couldn’t locate. This apparently is classic barred owl behavior between a male and female. A sharp-eyed teenager pointed out a snail which I had difficulty locating even after she had described the location. Other attractions at this stop included huge root systems seen from underneath because hurricanes had blown them over in the past.

Barred owl at Mahogany Hammock. February 2026.

Tree snail at Mahogany Hammock. Approximately two inches. Everglades, February 2026.

We arrived at Flamingo a bit tired. Thankfully the best thing to do there involved sitting and staring at the shallow waters leading out to the Keys—unless you wanted to take a boat charter which we had done in the past. We spotted an osprey flying back and forth over the shoreline waters, and we saw the near-ubiquitous flock of White Ibises. Then we drove north again.

A stylized view of the Keys. Flamingo, Everglades. February 2026.

Osprey at Flamingo, Everglades. February 2026.

We turned around and drove north toward the Royal Palm Visitors Center, hopefully now without the youngsters. Royal Palm deserves its own post, however, so we’ll bring this to a close.

Big Cypress National Preserve

Ever had a day when it’s too damned much trouble to brush a leaf off of your face? (Yeah, I’m having one today.) Oasis Visitor Center, Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

One of oddities about some of the Everglades-area areas for observing nature lies in the feeling one isn’t so much looking at Nature but more that one is looking at a ditch into which some Nature just happened to fall. The Oasis Visitor Center to the Big Cypress National Preserve on US-41 has a largish ditch running parallel to the highway. No more than 15 feet wide and likely much less, it delights the gator-gapers and folks like me who don’t mind looking at big reptilian laze-abouts who don’t offer much of a challenge to the person seeking them out. Here are a few to illustrate my point:

“I don’t care if you can see me. I’m just judging how close you are…and how slowly you move.” Oasis Visitor Center, Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

Alligator with rocks. Oasis Visitor Center, Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

Stilllife with gators. (Redundant.) Oasis Visitor Center, Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

Implication. Oasis Visitor Center, Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

Lest one think the only denizens of this ditch were the alligators, I present some other residents. On the far side of said ditch stood a Great Blue Heron in full breeding plumage. He didn’t seem to mind the nearby highway.

Great Blue Heron. Oasis Visitor Center, Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

I trust guardrails less than this heron. Oasis Visitor Center, Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

Turning back toward the Visitors Center proper, another birding couple pointed out a Red-bellied Woodpecker which frustratingly couldn’t locate a lizard. Said lizard had moments before been on the fence but had since retreated to the top of the fencepole.

I wonder how a lizard knows it’s much safer at the top of the pole? He waited until the woodpecker finally left, then returned to his original position.

Leaving the Oasis Visitors Center, we backtracked four miles to the turnoff for the Big Cypress Loop Road Scenic Drive. We’d been told the road was rough “but you’ll be okay in your SUV” but really any vehicle could take this road except for perhaps a tiny thing like a Fiat or Smart Car. Suspension would be the main issue here, since the road consists of hard-packed dirt, rocks, and a LOT of dust. Driving slowly through the first miles, we had watery land on either side of the raised roadway. This boded well:

Great Blue Heron. Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

Great Egret. Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

…and then we hit the birding jackpot…a waterway on both sides of the road, darkened by overhanging limbs from a variety of trees and such. Numerous birds congregated there.

A female Anhinga surveys the swamp…or maybe the nearby males? Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

The wetlands stretched into the distance on the right side of the road where we spotted the Anhinga. We saw several male Anhingas, two or three species of egrets, and tri-colored herons.

An Anhinga dries its wings in the center while two Tri-colored Herons, left and right, work the shallow waters for prey. Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

Turning to the left side of the road, a largish bit of standing water showed many birds. The Wood Stork eluded a sharply focused photo, but the others cooperated.

A Great Egret watches a White Ibis. Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

Ultimately my impressions far exceeded my ability to capture them….

White Ibis, reflected. Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

While two other cars of bird-loving folks like us spent time photographing and watching these avian wonders, a large vehicle pulled up and stopped. It seemed the driver wanted something so I walked over. I cannot remember what the vehicle was, but I had to look up, and I mean UP! Either a jacked 4-wheeler or something in its ballpark. The driver lowered his window and asked what we were looking at. “Gators?” he said emphatically. I replied that no, we were looking at birds. He said, “oh” in a disappointed way, raised his window and pulled around us, heading up the road to find “gators”. I wondered why he took this out-of-the-way road when gators hung around the ditches of every road in southern Florida. They jump out of pools and eat pet dogs, and they loll in copious numbers on slopes of I-75 where anyone driving through Alligator Alley could see several hundred. Then again, to be fair, the birds I thought were so interesting mostly could be seen at any reservoir in any typical Florida housing development. Who’s the idiot? As we left the scenic loop, I hoped the guy managed to stop and look around as he left Big Cypress. If he had, he might have seen the “elusive” alligator:

They’re just so gosh-darned difficult to spot! “Wish I could see me some ‘gators!” Big Cypress National Preserve. February 2026.

To the Everglades

One of a good-sized group of brown pelicans we watched while we ate lunch in Tin City, a group of shops located in old tin buildings on Naples Bay. Naples, FL, February 2026.

We had brought the frigid temps of the Carolinas and Georgia with us to Tampa, and my wife’s sister lamented the loss of her typical 70’s and 80’s. It warmed a bit on our second day there. I bundled up in the warmest things I’d packed and walked to a nearby reservoir to see what bird life I could find. Driving south the next day, we arrived at the Tin City shopping mecca early afternoon, and tucked into a late lunch. The food and the bird life entertained; the shops did not. Tin City seemed a poor and miniscule version of Seattle’s Pike Street Market. Most shops sold typical tourist trinkets which said “made in China” on the bottom. Combined with the exorbitant hotel rates—$300+ for a Springhill Suites on the outskirts of greater Naples?—I doubt we’ll be back in Naples. One saving grace? We’re not exactly foodies but we’re kissin’ close, and discovering that the Cracklin’ Jack’s just up the road from the hotel had recently been featured on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives sure put a fine end to the day. Best fried catfish I’ve ever had! We looked forward a bit more eagerly to entering the Everglades and surrounds the next day.

Although the westernmost entry to the Everglades National Park, the Marjory Stoneman Douglas Visitor Center, purported to not be open until the end of February, we decided to chance it on the 26th. We were rewarded with an open, brand-spanking-refurbished center….but not much else because it’s a jump-off point for visitors who want to boaters and to those who want to hike/camp in the Ten Thousand Islands. We are neither of those types. We traveled east on US-41, a.k.a. the Tamiami Trail, the southern route across the Florida peninsula which parallels I-75 a.k.a. “Alligator Alley”. I planned the US-41 route; it became a wise decision when a fire broke out between the two and officials closed sections of the interstate. (It also precluded driving very far north from the US-41.) The southern tip of Florida is a patchwork of state parks, state forests, national preserves, and the national park. We stopped first at the Big Cypress Swamp Welcome Center in the Big Cypress National Preserve. After that, a stop at the H.P. Williams Roadside Park gave us our first good glimpse of alligators, and some nice views of the bird denizens.

A Tri-Colored Heron stalks its prey. Big Cypress National Preserve, February 2026.

It’s not “oh, look, there’s a gator.” It’s more a find-the-gator experience. Sure they’re swimming up and down the minor canal you’re looking at. Can you spot the one hanging out under your nose? Big Cypress National Preserve, February 2026.

“like ships passing in the night…” Some gators were easier to spot. Big Cypress National Preserve, February 2026.

Sometimes, though, the subtropical plants grab one’s attention…

“Moses-in-the-cradle”??? That’s what my plant ID program says, but it seems doubtful. Regardless, it created a stark contrast to the water’s edge. Big Cypress National Preserve, February 2026.

Technically, the final photo of the plants was taken at the Oasis Visitor Center for the Big Cypress National Preserve. If you’re traveling “to see the Everglades,” I would highly recommend US-41 and the Big Cypress route, because it’s basically the northern environs of the Everglades. When one leaves the eastern boundary of the preserve, it’s less than a mile before the Everglades’ Shark Valley Visitor Center. As good as our day’s beginning had been, we had much to look forward to, it turned out.