Before I came to the Florida Everglades, I imagined only a province of swamps and sawgrass—a watery place, nearly submerged. So I am surprised to be crunching along a trail deep in a dry landscape that, to my untrained eye, resembles something like the Serengeti Plain. As far as I can see, an open field of shrubs and grasses is studded with towering slash pines that stand apart from each other, perforating the blue sky

How often do you hear Cumberland Island National Seashore mentioned?

The engine growls and gears grind as the yellow school bus lurches ahead. The hard, dark green, vinyl bench seat accentuates the jolt. Memories of a childhood decades removed flash through my mind. I feel a surge of youthful energy as we begin a tour of the diverse and interesting architecture in and near Indiana Dunes National Park.

Late one evening last summer, about the time that bats take to the air, I was stretched out on a patch of warm sand next to the Green River in Utah’s Desolation Canyon, waiting for stars to appear. Next to me were a couple my age from Baltimore and their two young grandsons, part of a group enjoying a six-day float trip with a Utah adventure outfitter. As darkness fell, the glittering band of the Milky Way spread above us from cliff to cliff. This was one of the reasons we had come to this place, for the “star river,” as the ancient Chinese poets called it, is no longer visible from our homes in the city.

On a hike in the forests and hills of Montenegro’s Lovcen National Park, our writer dodged some illegal foresters in search of free timber, and a wily fox that blocked her way.

While growing up, nerve-racking, spine-tingling, heart-pumping stories of hunting man-eating tigers and leopards in India by such legends as Jim Corbett and Kenneth Anderson ensured that my passion for the wild and the wilderness was set on a never-ending, all-consuming fire, while stories by forest guides and jungle guards about their encounters with tigers, leopards, elephants, sloth bears, wolves, jackals, and hyenas went a long way in painting a magical and mysterious picture of the jungle in my heart and mind. In August 2007, I made my way into the Jim Corbett National Park armed with a fine but borrowed point-and-shoot camera. Since then I have progressed to be a professional natural history photographer.

Which national parks will you travel to in 2020? To help you think through some of the possibilities, we look back at the past year's articles that explored park destinations.

Barataria Preserve is one of six sites managed as part of Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve, an umbrella park of natural and cultural sites named for the early 19th-century French pirate and smuggler who helped Andrew Jackson defend New Orleans during the War of 1812. Taken together, the sites paint a rich portrait of coastal Louisiana: The Barataria unit protects some 26,000 acres of wetlands, while the Chalmette National Battlefield unit honors the resounding American victory in January 1815.

Two sites in Pennsylvania, separated by 34 miles and 110 years, depict the tremendous community resilience and individual fortitude that define Americans and have helped us heal and understand disasters.

Thanksgiving week brought a lot of snow to much of the country. I returned home to find 8-9 inches of the white stuff in the yard, and a decided chill (low teens) in the air. All of which naturally got me thinking about how to enjoy the winter months in the cold weather side of the National Park System. If you’re looking to enjoy parks chilled and blanketed by winter, here are some destinations to consider.

What do you hear when you visit a national park? Spend some time with Jacob Job, a natural sounds recording specialist, and you'll likely learn to hear much, much more.

Take saguaros out of Saguaro National Park, and you’d lose more than the park’s namesake cactus, one that gives skyward structure to the vista here. You might strain to catch the drumming of the Gila woodpecker, fail to catch an elf owl peering out from its cavity nest, and not know where to look for Lesser long-nosed bats. All these creatures rely on the saguaro for food and shelter. Realizing those possible losses to this Sonoran Desert landscape begs the question, "How are the park’s saguaros doing?"

One of the joys of visiting every unit managed by the National Park Service is driving rural roads to historic sites located off the beaten path. Not only is the final park destination guaranteed to be worth the drive, but the opportunity to experience rural America on state highways and county roads can be equally edifying and enjoyable. We experienced both on a recent visit to Arkansas Post National Memorial located on the Arkansas River just upstream from its confluence with the Mississippi.

Hiking a portion of the Ice Age Trail, the entire length of which is in Wisconsin, is reason enough to visit our nation’s 23rd state. Having the trail twist and turn through a land filled with cheese curds and Spotted Cow is a major bonus.

My bottom feels as if I left the car’s seat warmer on. That’s impossible, of course. I’m sitting on a trail in Yellowstone, watching Minute Man Geyser erupt again. As it turns out, I accidentally sat down next to a small steam vent. The vent has decided to keep me warm on this beautiful fall afternoon.

What comes to mind when you hear the words “base camp?” Tents beneath Mount Everest, perhaps? How about something a little closer to home, bordering the incredible turquoise-hued water of Diablo Lake in Ross Lake National Recreation Area, beneath the mountains of the North Cascades? Photographer Rebecca Latson spent a couple of nights at the North Cascades Institute Environmental Learning Center's "Base Camp" and writes about her experience.

First mention of Waco Mammoth National Monument might not pique your interest in this monument, but the prehistoric stories revealed there are worth your visit.

With the arrival of summer, the national parks begin to fill with RVs, minivans, SUVs, and tour buses. Fifty years ago, Americans in their wood-paneled station wagons might linger in a national park for a week or two, but today many visitors try to tag as many parks as possible on their too-short vacations. Except at Isle Royale, that is.

What would the Paradise Inn at Mount Rainier National Park be without its famous painted lampshades?

I've long been a paddler, but primarily of canoes and occasionally rafts. While I have a few times gotten into a sea kayak and paddled away from shore, I never fully embraced the sport. Until now. Having placed an order for a sea kayak worthy of big lakes and ocean waters, while awaiting delivery I naturally turned my attention to where in the National Park System this new hobby would fit. And the results were fairly breathtaking in the parkscapes they entailed.