Waves crashed on the sandy shore of Santa Rosa Sound, wind whipping off the water and flinging my hair in all directions. One family had set up their chairs on the narrow strip of beach between the sound and the trees of the Gulf Islands National Seashore’s Naval Live Oaks area, but with a three-year-old and 18-month-old among our party, we would not be joining them.
We crossed the road to a different Gulf Islands parking lot, this one leading to a sand beach on Pensacola Bay. Even though I once lived along this part of the Gulf Coast, I had never visited this particular spot. The narrow trail wove between low, twisted Live Oak trees and the arrow-straight trunks of pine. Ahead I could hear but not see an Osprey, while Red-headed Woodpeckers flew from one tree to the next.
Red-headed Woodpeckers are not common in this area, and I was surprised to see its bright crimson head contrasting sharply with black and white wings. Their populations have declined by nearly 70 percent since 1966. According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, “These woodpeckers were once common to abundant in the 19th century, probably because the continent had more mature forests with nut crops and dead trees.” Seeing one at Naval Live Oaks said good things about the habitat here.
Gulf Islands National Seashore protects gulf and bay coastline in Mississippi and Florida. The Naval Like Oaks area was protected long before the national seashore designation; the United States government bought the land in 1828 for the Live Oaks the ship building industry needed, representing the country’s first endeavor into protection for future tree harvests.
We dropped our stuff at the edge of the water, which on this side looked flat and calm, protected from the wind. We could see barges from our vantage point, part of bridge-building projects in Pensacola. Some tree trunks and roots sat in the water now, creating an interesting obstacle for toddler feet.
My particular toddler couldn’t stay out of the water. The sandy bottom and calm surface meant he didn’t have to worry about being knocked over by waves or sinking into muck. With the resulting freedom, he celebrated by launching himself into water over his head - not quite as fun for us parents, given that he still didn’t know how to swim.
Summer is a crazy busy time in the Florida Panhandle, with traffic choking Gulf accessways and parking lots. But here, just a short hike from the car, we had the bay beach to ourselves. In fact, during the two hours we spent there, we counted just a handful of hikers, a few boats, and one jetski. We saw more birds than people.
For years, when I closed my eyes and imagined Gulf Islands National Seashore, I pictured Gulf-side beaches with emerald water and sugar sand dunes. And yes, I still love these beaches, but now I will also remember the moments of quiet in an otherwise busy region, and the laughter of little kids splashing in the shallows. I can’t wait to visit again.
Add comment