Bats and the Itch

We’re all familiar with bats and occasionally may see them darting through the air at dusk as they feed on mosquitoes and other pesky insects that reduce the pleasure of our outdoor experiences. As mentioned above the University of Florida campus has two bat houses located in an open field in the heart of the campus across from Lake Alice, a large recreational area. The bats hang out in what appear to be gabled rooflines of houses perched 20-some feet atop five stout pilings. One with four triangular shaped gables at right angles to each other, the second looking like the roof of a small barn. Both have black, bat silhouettes affixed to their faces.

The bat silhouette on the front of the barn shaped bat house.

With cameras in hand we arrived before dusk and, to capture an unobstructed view, positioned ourselves along a wooden, board fence that surrounded the field. Before long at least a score of other curious onlookers filtered into watch the show. Jay and I chatted with another couple and watched a hawk get into position for his evening meal.

Finally a smudge of black flashed out from under a roof; then another, then two, then ten and in moments the sky was black with these flying mammals contorting through the air in a quest to fill their bellies. With these tiny aerial acrobats came a heavy, musky odor not unlike what one would experience from a caged animal at a zoo; a scent totally unexpected on our part. It seemed just as quickly as the exodus began, it ended and one hundred thousand bats were dispersed through the night. Jay was overjoyed as he never got one mosquito bite the whole evening. We left knowing that, outside of trekking to some exotic jungle location, we may never experience anything quite like it again.

Go to this link for a video of the bats and the hawk.

There they go – by the thousands.

On the 26^th we met Art and Edda Ross for a ranger guided kayak trip down the Ichetucknee Spring. Like the Rainbow River, the water was crystalline and the sandy bottom darkened by a forest of lush grasses. With the weather warming, luminescent, green blades of wild rice stretched out of the water, their roots providing marshy habitat for young fish and amphibians. Massive Cypress trunks lined the banks, their roots splaying into water that reflected their fragmented images to those passing by. Patches of fresh chartreuse leaves peppered the solid gray of Spanish moss wafting overhead like confetti at a Mardi Gras parade.

Notice the circular area in the middle of the pool where the spring water breaks the surface.

Freshly emerged blades of rice grasses backlit by the sun.

The massive, contorted root structure of a gorgeous cypress tree.

Our guide, Park biologist Ginger Morgan, pointed out wildlife and features of the river we would not have known otherwise, including where a, now long gone, settlement had sprung up around a mill located in an idyllic wooded setting on a branch of the river, and where beaver had gnawed the bark off of tree trunks exposing fresh, pale wood. We saw our first wild Wood Stork and Pileated Woodpecker, and Jay got a close-up look at another young water snake. Turtles the size of platters sunned themselves on logs and the day ended with a most spectacular treat - three manatees.

Just before we reached the landing at the end of our voyage, a baby and two adult manatees appeared just below the surface of the water. Periodically one would break the surface with just its nose for a breath of air then slowly descend a few feet and continue its languid swim. Ginger was looking them over for scars or other identifying features to determine if they had been on the river before while Jay maneuvered the kayak into the best positions for Chris to take pictures being careful to not be above them or accidently jab them with a paddle.

A huge manatee just under the surface of the water.

A mother catching a breath of air as she swims next to her baby.