St. Lucie, Fl. is absolutely awesome for beach and intra-coastal waterway access. Summers with my family here are spent lounging on the beach or out on the boat. On windy winter days, however, these activities are less appealing.
While during most of the year the last thing I want to do is walk through the palmettos in blistering heat with nothing but the occasional pine tree for shade, in the cool winter wind this sunny place with palmettos for shelter from the wind is very pleasant.
The Savannah Preserve State Park stretches over ten miles, and has several points of parking and entry. In the dozens of times that I’ve parked off of Jensen Beach Blvd, I have seen maybe two other people here. There’s a really great chance you’ll have this gorgeous place to yourself. If it’s rained recently, you’re likely to encounter some wet spots along the way, but there are usually dry enough paths through.
The Savannahs are a place of constant change. Rains come and flood the low areas, leaving only hammocks of pine trees and palmettos, and the raised path, making the savannah look like a swamp. Then dry spells come and turn it into a desert.
Fires rage, naturally or controlled, every few years, burning old and dead growth and giving life to new seedlings. At the Jensen Beach entry a burn had been done not too long ago. The pine trees stood dead and blackened, while at their bases new pine trees shot up, fluffy with baby growth.
The wildflowers were thriving too, on the rich charcoal fertilizer left by the fire. The delicate beauty of a wildflower among the rough grasses always startles me.
Another discovery elated me and left me crouching in the mud as my parents wandered on. Sundews, or drosera, are carnivorous plants that attract insects and catch them on the sticky substance they release from their leaves. I am fascinated by all things tiny and beautiful, and sundews with their otherworldly appearance and fascinating nature enthralled me.
After walking awhile through the park around the Jensen Beach entrance, my mom wanted to see more water and walk through less of it, so we piled back in the car and went to the entrance on SE Green River Parkway.
Here, an attractive and naturally planted waterway divides the road from a path that parallels the park. There are also pathways into the park from here. Mallards were wintering in the waterway and we saw a snowy egret and night heron before walking long.
Numerous large apple snail shells scattered along the shoreline indicated the presence of a limpkin. Limpkins eat mollusks, with apple snails dominating their diets. They make a strange call like a scream or a wail, not like anything else I’ve ever heard.
I was gratified to finally see the limpkin, surrounded by the largest cache of apple snail shells I’ve ever seen. The snails were on the downstream side of a canal from the waterway across the land path and into the Savannah.
My parents and I disagreed on how so many shells had come to be there. My dad argued that the bird waited at the canal for live snails to be swept downstream. My mom argued that the bird brought live snails to the canal, to use the shallow fast-moving water in some way to clean them.
I argue that the limpkin eats the snails all over the waterway, and that the empty shells fall back into the water and are swept into the canal. Whatever the cause, there were certainly more apple snails than I’ve ever seen.
Lisa had a lovely time and managed to roll in something yucky and brown.