Circle B Bar Reserve | Lakeland
I had been seeing some improved photo results with my previously-owned T3i and was anxious to capture better pictures than I had on our first trip to this fantastic repository of birds and plants. Circle B Bar Reserve and a damaged iPhone lens equal sad.
It was blue skies and white fluffy clouds as I left Hillsborough County and motored away to Polk County.
After stopping for lunch at Ole Tampa in Mulberry the black clouds rolled in and the rain fell in torrents. I sped on and through the entrance to Circle B Bar Reserve. The deluge died to a drizzle and disappeared up as I waited in the parking area.
My disappointment turned to delight as the returning sun bounced off the clinging raindrops like white diamonds on every leaf and limb in the park.
This scarletbush was the first vibrant thing to greet me as I started toward the Shady Oak trail for my first experience on the partially closed Alligator Alley trail.
A hall of moss-draped oaks led me to freshwater wetlands.
I think this is arrowleaf sida, which is much more tolerable than Flagpole si—Nah, that’s just too cheap and easy.
The oak forest opened up into the wetlands and uplands that bordered Lake Hancock. the croaks of wading birds and cries of ospreys resonated over the grasslands.
The shaggy dogfennel was populated by bright orange fritillaries and creeping tendrils of passiflora.
A Florida white was fluttering about the cobbler’s pegs.
I turned onto Aligator Alley which ran between the shore of Lake Hancock and a cypress swamp.
A cormorant perched sentry over the lake.
This great blue heron on his rotting cypress perch was one of many varieties I would see.
He needed to be somewhere.
This tricolored fellow stuck around.
The lake was a buffet for ospreys to pluck plecos by the pound at their leisure.
This little blue heron preferred the swamp side though how he could see through all that duckweed is beyond me.
I heard a few passersby mention alligators, but I saw none on my walk along their namesake trail. It was not until I looked at my pics at home that I noticed this guy slinking in to shore. I would have switched lenses for a better shot had I realized.
This osprey had just returned from the sushi buffet. There’s a reason they are also known as fish hawks.
This green heron was making a racket.
I reached the end of the trail where the gate restricts passage due to damage from last year’s hurricane.
Back where Alligator Alley meets Shady oak a great egret was surveying his end of Lake Hancock from the service pier.
I decided to head across to Heron Hideout trail and then walk along Marsh Rabbit Run where we saw the baby gators in January. Passing through the oak forest again I spotted this cardinal flitting about too rapidly to get a good shot.
The striking bald crown of this dead palm tree had captured my attention when I noticed the hole near the top. Suddenly a head popped out and spit saw dust. Then it ducked back in only to pop back out and spit more sawdust. Those home renovations can be a real bear without power tools. I think she is a golden-fronted woodpecker.
I entered the Heron Hideout trail, a raised berm of land that separates the Banana Creek Marsh from the Banana Creek.
This territory was under the watchful eye of another great blue heron, with the egrets apparently the mall cops of the Circle B Bar Reserve.
These waters are frequently hunted by the anhinga or snake bird. This guy is drying out his feathers after a dive.
I think this is some immature morph variant of a great blue heron, but I’m unsure. The granite patterned beak is a mystery to me.
My eyes scanned the pennywort and water lettuce for gator signs, but there were none.
The right bank of Marsh Rabbit Run looked out over the wide expanse of Banana Creek Marsh, while the left bank bordered a narrow canal separated from the Banana Creek by a strip of land. These yellow seedboxes decorated the canal side.
A four-spotted pennant alit on an amaranth frond.
Some prickly looking flatsedge was growing at the edge of the canal.
Ants were exploring the pink tufts of this marsh fleabane.
There were several anhingas drying their feathers along the canal. They are perfect nature photography models, holding their poses like statues for impressively long periods of time. Luckily for me and my fumbling photography skills and ignorance of the camera’s functions.
About his time I realized I left one of my trekking poles at a birdwatching blind a quarter mile back, so I about-faced and sped along to claim it before someone else did.
I spotted this tricolored heron spotting something tasty through the lettuce.
When I returned to the blind an anhinga was perched on a dead limb.
And then he wasn’t.
They were all out this trip and might be the most prolific species here. Or at least the most commonly out and about.
It was in winter around this very spot that I spotted my first limpkin. I wonder if this was the same guy I nearly stumbled over. He was giving me that “keep your distance, guy” look.
Yes, another one. They’re just too easy, but also each one provides a different detail in focus. Look at those tail feathers. He’s all geared up for Shadowland.
This guy. This hose-nosed freak. I thought I was seeing things until I got home. I imagined there had to be more of that snout under the water—nope. It’s a Florida softshell turtle and I don’t think he’d taste good dredged in cornmeal and deep fried.
My first glimpse of a purple passionflower was magical—as if I’d witnessed something alien to this planet. Now they’re all over the place. Way to glut the market, passionflower.
And that goes for you, too, purple pickerel.
And it goes for you, too!
Then I saw this lil’ fella’ and I thought, “awe, he found a mushroom.” Then as I crept closer with my eye in the viewfinder, I realized he was enjoying a fresh raw egg. I hope it wasn’t one of the limpkin’s litter.
This time around I didn’t see nearly as many coots or moorhens, but this one was wandering the wort as I neared Heron Hideout.
Another representative of the ever popular anole slowed for a pose.
This crazy cooter draped in duckweed was sunning with a smile as I neared the nexus of marsh trails.
Right at that same spot where I just saw the anole, the cooter and only a few yards from the moorhen, this black-bellied whistling duck was mucking about in some tall grass.
Without a whistle or a quack he tried to ditch this paparazzo and went for a dip.
I decided to call it a day at Circle B Bar Reserve. my camera card contained more pictures than I had time to sort through and my legs were tired. I think I may have worked off that devil crab and Cubano from Ole Tampa. I’ll return in the fall to see what has changed; I love this place.
- Where are your favorite spots for bird watching and wildlife sighting?