I took this photograph in May of 2007 on Captiva. I have strict rules about photographing nature. Ready? Here they are: Don't touch it! & Don't touch it!
Photoshop it all you want, but when the camera is in your hand, it is verbotten to manipulate the scene. It feels dishonest. When someone looks at a photograph I've taken of something outdoors, I want them to not only like it, but be impressed with how lucky I was to find it looking like that, or arranged like that, or frozen like that in that moment in time. Maybe that one journalism class I took in college got through to me (back when they actually taught ethical journalism) about never manipulating a photo or a story. I suppose it shouldn't apply, as this is just goofing around, not reporting, but the guts of it spoke to me: find the remarkable truth and share it. Though, I would add, "and Photoshop it 'til it begs for mercy!"
About Captiva: My husband Mike and I were lucky enough to get a week down there without children. It was an incredibly relaxing vacation. We travel really well together, which, I've come to discover, is not true of many couples. Maybe it helps that we like each other, but I digress...
If I weren't so Yankee practical, thus finding the prospect of losing my real estate in a hurricane distasteful to say the least, I could see the appeal of having a condo and wintering there. Not Florida in general, but on the outer reaches of Captiva, which is still untamed on its fringes. "Old Florida," as they say. January through April would be a my choice. Escaping the dreariness of a New England winter as it drags on and settles into your bones sounds really, really good.
There seemed to be a "Captiva uniform:" A convertible PT Cruiser and a visor sporting gray hair. There must have been a run on them at the rental place because that was how we were outfitted and discovered quickly that we fit right in.
Other than the ghastly $6 toll to cross the bridge from Ft. Myers into Sanibel & Captiva, making the trip over was a gas, if only for watching the bad-ass pelicans! I love those guys! They just dive bomb right into the water, or hang out, completely non-plussed by humans, and just seem to have a swagger that really appeals to me. Just love 'em!
Love all the other critters down there, too, winged or not. Of course, the shells are what the area is famous for. The "Sanibel stoop" is what it's called, bending over to pluck a shell from the shore, and the shoreline is a treasure box. I defy even the most hard-hearted to stroll along a beach down there and not be completely seduced at the beauty at your feet. If you find a junonia, they will take your picture and put you in the paper, as the junonia shell is the rarest and most prized find. We got a laminated trifold "shell map" to help us identify all the shells we were picking up. Every day when we got back to our hotel suite (it had a kitchen), I put them on the stove in a pot of water and boiled them. It seemed weird, but as soon as I did it I could envision myself making it a regular habit in my dotage...
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