Some autumn shots of the Beacon Heights trail.
Companion Post
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Photo Gallery of Beacon Heights Trail
Congaree National Park – Boardwalk
Last month I visited Congaree National Park in South Carolina. November is a good month for a visit. Because during the summer in this swamp the mosquitoes hold annual conventions with a fervor that would put any political rally to shame.
But not today.
So let’s take a boardwalk!
Much of the park is a floodplain, which means it’s often as soggy as a sponge in a rainstorm. To help you explore without turning into a mud sculpture, there are elevated boardwalks winding through the forest.
These boardwalks are fantastic, offering you the chance to stroll above the swampy fray while looking down at the world of frogs, waterfowl, and the occasional serpentine reptile.
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The park is home to some of the tallest trees in the eastern United States. These are not your average backyard oaks or maples; these are towering hardwoods and pines that have been around since, well, probably since the squirrels started keeping diaries.
It’s like walking through a natural cathedral, with a canopy so high it might as well have its own weather system.
Aside from the aforementioned mosquitoes, which in the summer secretly hone their skills for the Insect Olympics, there’s a whole array of creatures. For example, the park is a haven for birdwatchers.
I heard many, but saw few.
Feral piggies
I did spot four feral pigs running as fast as their little legs would go. Not native to the park these porcine interlopers roam like four-legged outlaws. Their snouts, like a bulldozer, can turn a serene patch of forest floor into a scene resembling a worn out rugby field.
The day before I arrived Park rangers closed the park & went on a piggy hunt. Feral pig foraging habits also make them the inadvertent landscapers of Congaree, altering the forest floor and waterways.
This can lead to changes in water flow and vegetation, which in turn affects other species who are less keen on such disruptions. It’s a bit like someone deciding to reroute a river to get a better view from their tent.
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A December Morning on the New River
The cold might nip at your fingers and toes, but the serene beauty of the river is something that warms the soul. It did for me.
(Vote best photo at bottom of post)
We’re told by geologists (what do they know!) that the New River is the second oldest river in the world, ranking just behind the Nile. I bet you didn’t know that.
Also, I bet you didn’t know the New River has a bit of an identity crisis. You see, the New River is like the runner-up in a ‘World’s Oldest River’ beauty pageant, where the Nile strutted away with the crown, leaving the New to graciously accept the silver medal.
Picture this: the New River, stretching its waters through ole Appalachee, telling its river friends, “You know, I was almost the oldest river in the world, but then the Nile showed up with its pyramids and pharaohs.” It’s like being the second oldest sibling in a family where the oldest gets to boast about being born during a historic event, and all you’ve got is, “Well, I was born on a Tuesday.”
The New River, with its misleading name, seems to be stuck in a perpetual state of existential irony. It’s as if ‘Mother Nature’ named it ‘New’ as a cosmic joke, fully aware that this river has been meandering through ancient landscapes since dinosaurs roamed the earth. (I know it was early American settlers, but that’s not as funny.)
It’s the river equivalent of a person named Tiny who happens to be six and a half feet tall.
So, while the Nile basks in the glory of its ancient status, surrounded by deserts and pyramids, the New River humbly accepts its runner-up position, offering stunning Appalachian scenery and a tranquility that the busy Nile might envy. After all, it’s not all about age; sometimes being ‘new’ (in name, at least) has its own charm!
Time to Rate God’s Beauty
(and my attempts to capture it)
(click for larger images)
Going to do a lot more photo blogging. Use this link.
Companion Post
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Celebrate God’s Good Creation