Siesta Key

Last Friday, I took my class on what was perhaps my favorite field trip yet - a birdwatching tour at Siesta Key. Siesta Key is currently considered the #1 beach in the U.S. - designated by whom, I have no idea; that's just what the signs say. Even if that honor is fabricated, it's probably deserved. Siesta's sands are sugar white and the water it crystal clear. In the wake of tropical storm Debbie, which plowed through the area a few weeks ago, the wrack line on the beach was unusually large and stinky. I've been informed that typically, seaweed debris is almost nonexistent at Siesta; it's just white sand, clear water, and plentiful sunshine. But I liked it in its current condition just fine, big stinky wrack line and all.

Reddish Egret

Laughing Gulls

Look closely. There are little Snowy Plovers in there.

Snowy Plover nests, marked by the Audubon Society

The crazy kids

Well, I was in heaven at the beach, what with the president of the Sarasota County Audubon Society answering my every question about shorebirds, but the kids were significantly more interested in the water than the birds wading in it, so my primary occupation during our trip was keeping them focused on the birds and our lovely British retiree tour guide. Plus, a group of 16 kiddos tends to scare off even the most human-friendly of birds, so most of our bird watching was from very, very afar. Interested in seeing more and desperate to get in the water, I headed back to Siesta Key after class for some time at the beach without any "it's hot"s or "I'm thirsty"s or "when are we going to eat?"s. Armed with directions to get there and some experience doing so, I grabbed my book and a towel, picked up some non-cafeteria food on the way, and had a peaceful picnic dinner in a beautiful, beautiful place in the company of only the gulls and skimmers and plovers.

I must say these gulf coast beaches are nearly unbeatable. Nearly, but not entirely. The company (or lack thereof) makes all the difference, you see. I'd currently trade the white sand and clear water of the gulf for a trip like this one to North Carolina's Outer Banks with my most favorite beach-going buddy. Drew told me the other day that we've been going to the beach together for more than 10 years, starting way back when, even before we were dating in high school. On one of those trips, Drew, unskilled in the art of "going out", asked me how exactly two people become boyfriend and girlfriend. I, in my infinite wisdom, said, "you just ask". A few weeks later, he did just that. And that has made all the difference.

Fishing trip at the beach, circa 2005