The entire venue turns emerald green in the golden hour. If ever there were a scene to capture the essence of Everglades, this is it.

April 5–7, 2024

It’s safe to say I’m a sucker for cheap flights. A couple months ago, I found a red-eye flight to Miami for under $100 roundtrip. . . Seemed great at the time, but I’m second guessing that now that I’m boarding my flight at 12:01 a.m. I try to sleep on the 4-hour flight, knowing I’m going to land at sunrise, but this budget airline (bet you can guess which one) doesn’t have the most comfortable seats. But like I said, I’m a sucker for cheap flights. I’ll gladly suffer for a good deal. Especially with the prospect of visiting all three of Florida’s national parks: Everglades, Dry Tortugas and Biscayne. The benefit definitely outweighs the cost.

Arriving at 6:30 a.m with the time change. the sun is already popping above the horizon. I’m too early to check in to my hotel, so I pick up my rental car and drive an hour south to scope out Everglades National Park, picking up groceries for my stay along the way. My first stop is Royal Palm and the Anhinga Trail. I’ve heard good things about this area and I’m not disappointed. In the early morning I’m the only one there. Wading birds graze among the grass in the parking lot. I walk the short trail and spot a couple alligators.

Knowing I’ll come back here for actual sunrise, I move on to the Gumbo Limbo Trail, named after the indigenous trees in this jungle forest. It’s dark and cool under the canopy, but not much to write home about. The short half mile loop is a fun taste of Florida’s vegetation—a foreign experience for this arid, Colorado native.

By now, the Ernest F. Coe Visitor Center is open, so I make way over to check out the exhibits, stamp the passport, and peruse the gift shop. It’s a welcoming venue with rocking chairs on a patio overlooking the wetlands. The rangers tell me Pa-hay-okee Overlook and Mahogany Hammock are two excellent choices for sunset. Not far from the visitor center, I hop in the car and drive down the Main Park Road to check them out. Pa-hay-okee is overgrown and doesn’t offer the best view in my opinion of the grasslands, so I check it off the list and mosey on to Mahogany Hammock.

A small island of trees in the middle of a river of grass, Mahogany Hammock Trail is a neat jungle boardwalk elevated at eye level with the trees. I hear barred owls in the branches and watch lizards scoot along the handrails. This place is worth returning. Continuing my reconnaissance mission, I am interested in traversing the entire length of Main Park Road, down to the village of Flamingo on the very southern tip of the park.

After 20 miles of driving I reach Flamingo just in time for a quick bite of lunch. From the boardwalk on the coast I briefly spot the gray backs of manatees surfacing in the murky water. I linger hoping for a better view but never find them again, so I walk around Eco Pond hoping to spot some roseate spoonbills. The easy half-mile loop is not worth it at this time of day. Though I could hear birds in the pond, they are barely visible through the vegetation. And if I pause long enough to find a better view, the mosquitos descend on me in hoards.

I cut my losses and return to my car. At this time, I can check into my hotel, so satisfied with my reconnaissance I hop in the car and drive over an hour back out the park to my hotel. On the way, I spy several canoe trails that look intriguing. My friend, Robert, lives in the area and is joining me in the park tomorrow with his kayaks so I make mental note of which water paths look best.

After dinner and a nap in the hotel, I venture back out to Anhinga Trail for an evening walk, hoping for some gorgeous sunset colors to emblazon the sky. I’m not the only one with this idea. More visitors and cars are present than this morning. Nevertheless, it’s still a peaceful stroll on the boardwalk. The wildlife remains elusive (probably avoiding the people) but the sky turns brilliant shades of pink and purple as the underbellies of high flying clouds catch the last rays of sun. This makes great reflection shots in the water around the trail. Returning to home base for the night, I meet Robert and we plan the next day.

The morning comes early as we load up the kayaks and I convince Robert to let me stop by Anhinga Trail for sunrise one more time on our way down to Flamingo and the canoe trails from yesterday. Again, it’s quiet and calm. A couple other people are out for the sunrise too. This time the wildlife is a bit more active though. An alligator casually swims along as I walk the boardwalk. It’s such a neat scene. Barely making a ripple, the giant beast glides effortlessly beside me weaving its way through the lily pads. Across the pond, purple gallinules tiptoe across the pads in search of breakfast. Anhingas and cormorants perched high in trees dry themselves in the morning sunlight. The entire venue turns emerald green in the golden hour. If ever there were a scene to capture the essence of Everglades, this is it.

Spending an hour at the trail, we pack up and head back to the car for our kayak adventure. It’s such a treat to use Robert’s kayaks. Not only does it offer a unique vantage point for the park, but it comes at no expense or logistics. We pull over at a roadside parking lot and unload our kayaks at Hells Bay Canoe Trail. Mangroves line the roadway and all we see is a dark tunnel of water for a trail. What could be more exciting?

Locked and loaded, we push off in our kayaks under the mangrove canopy, following numbered white poles to guide us through the maze of branches. Soon, we make our way to a wider river way and eventually out into open water. We must be on some large pond or lake. Trees continue to line the horizon in every direction, but the expanse of water helps give us a little bit of a view. Finding a random dock, we climb out and eat lunch. This trail doubles as a backcountry camping route so floating platforms and docks appear every so often offering places to pitch a tent in the watery wilderness. We have no intentions of spending the night, but the idea is definitely intriguing. Turning around at this point, we return back through the maze of forest to our car thrilled with our day on the water.

Paddling is hard work so we’re both hungry for dinner. We stop at a roadside restaurant serving alligator and fries. When in Rome. . . interestingly enough, alligator tastes no different than chicken in my opinion. Was it worth the try? Definitely. Do I need to eat alligator again? Probably not.

After dinner, Robert has to head home so we part ways and call it a day. With some daylight left over, I return to Mahogany Hammock for sunset. Again the golden light over the grassland is dreamy. The hazy atmosphere adds an idyllic glow to the scene. I catch photos of white egrets dancing with one another in the distance—a great way to end a full day of adventure.

The next morning is cloudy when I wake up, so I don’t have many expectations for sunrise. As I’m driving down the Main Park Road, I keep catching glimpses of birds along the shoulder. But by the time I slow down and turn around for pictures, they fly away. With not much of a sunrise to chase, I make this my new goal in the dreary daylight. Over the course of the morning, I collect images of white egrets, blue herons, ibis, and even a green egret. As each encounter gets closer and better, I’m slowly beginning to understand the allure of birdwatching.

In the afternoon, I follow the advice of a ranger to check out Old Ingraham Highway for spectacular birdwatching. It’s a spur off of Main Park Road that few people know about. It follows some wetland ponds to the south, eventually turning into a dirt road and making me feel conspicuous and unauthorized to be here. But the ranger told me it is open to the public. I find a spot along the road and patiently wait for action. Sure enough the place is abuzz with birds. Most are in the distance, but keeping quiet and calm, a few meander over to me. I capture photos of white egrets (again) and also a blue egret—a bird I didn’t even know existed! It’s a bit of cat and mouse as I stealthily chase them through reeds along the roadside. Believe it or not, this has me captivated for hours, waiting for the picture-perfect moment to shoot these birds.

Soon enough, the sun begins to set on the land, signaling my time in Everglades is coming to an end. I came to this park hoping to find wildlife and I leave feeling successful. I expected more alligators, but am pleasantly surprised by the show of birds. It makes sense why Everglades is a birdwatcher’s paradise. I head back to the hotel and prep for the next stage of my Florida journey: Dry Tortugas National Park.