On February 28, 2013, I had the opportunity to take one of Rookery Bay's boat tours with my Colloquium class. We left from Shell Island Road near Marco Island and traveled through the estuary to Key Wadin beach, taking water quality samples, identifying species, and testing salinity along the way.
I have had very few opportunties to take a boat ride in my life. Honestly, I believe that I could count my experiences on a boat on one hand. During this tour with my classmates, I realized that that is probably the reason I don't consider myself a true Florida beach girl. I have heard many of my friends say "You can shake the sand from your shoes but it will never leave your soul." I don't typically feel that way. Of course I love running the beach as the sun comes up or walking the pier as it sets, but not so much that I doubt I could live anywhere else. In fact, I have been eager to move away since I turned thirteen. Well... I HAD been eager to move away.
Being out on the water changes my opinion of my home entirely. The world becomes such a different place when you lose sight of the shore. I'm out there so infrequently, however, that between boat trips, I forget that. I forget the way it feels to watch dolphins jumping through the otherwise still water, wading birds catching fish between the roots of the mangroves, or ospreys nesting atop the posted "Wake Zone" signs. I forget the wonder in pulling a fish up into the boat and trying to guess what it is, the feel of the breeze on my face and... yes, even the feel of sand between my toes. I had grown up away from the beach, in the pine flat woods of Florida. It's a whole different feel out there, so this boat tour of Rookery Bay meant a lot to me because it helped me to reconnect with another part of my home state's environment. In fact, by the time I returned home, I was ready to paint that sappy "sand" quote on a canvas for my bedroom. When the thought first crossed my mind I couldn't help but laugh, but it also made me proud- proud to call Southwest Florida my home.
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