2025-06-07 Bear Point to Unknown Bay Outer Loop
Parkur fotoğrafları
Hazırlayan
Parkur istatistikleri
- Mesafe
- 9,25 km
- İrtifa kazancı
- 1 m
- Teknik zorluk seviyesi
- Orta zorlukta
- İrtifa kaybı
- 1 m
- Maksimum irtifa
- 1 m
- TrailRank
- 30
- Minimum irtifa
- -0 m
- Parkur türü
- Döngü
- Süre
- 3 saat 21 dakika
- Koordinatlar
- 483
- Yüklenme tarihi
- 7 Haziran 2025
- Kayıt tarihi
- Haziran 2025
yakınında: Marco, Florida (United States)
445 kere bakıldı , 0 kere indirildi
Parkur fotoğrafları
Seyahat planı açıklaması
We returned to Bear Point this morning to explore more trails. The tide was high, the water warm, and the air still. I thought of a coat of many colors—Dolly’s memory, Joseph’s blessing, and how this place, like that patchwork coat, is stitched from many pieces. Clearings open into quiet bays. Channels twist through mangrove cathedrals. Each turn offers another texture, another hue—blues, greens, ochres, browns.
The usual birds greeted us: ospreys, egrets, the whisper of wings over water. Two lemon sharks glided past, quick and purposeful, uninterested in us. They carried the pulse of something older than this trail, this tide, or our brief visit.
I tried to capture the sunrise. In hindsight, I caught a string of what others mistook for sunset. The colors fooled even me. You must rise early, face east, and earn that light. Still, several photos show the subtle haze of Saharan dust.
This patch of estuary—this coat of many colors—holds no riches in the usual sense. But like the child in Dolly’s song, I left feeling rich. Rich in salt and silence. Rich in birdsong and motion. Rich in a morning stitched from water and wonder.
The usual birds greeted us: ospreys, egrets, the whisper of wings over water. Two lemon sharks glided past, quick and purposeful, uninterested in us. They carried the pulse of something older than this trail, this tide, or our brief visit.
I tried to capture the sunrise. In hindsight, I caught a string of what others mistook for sunset. The colors fooled even me. You must rise early, face east, and earn that light. Still, several photos show the subtle haze of Saharan dust.
This patch of estuary—this coat of many colors—holds no riches in the usual sense. But like the child in Dolly’s song, I left feeling rich. Rich in salt and silence. Rich in birdsong and motion. Rich in a morning stitched from water and wonder.
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I love your commentary.
Beautifully written! Made me want to follow your trail as soon as I can.