Kodak Moments at Lettuce Lake Park

It used to be free admission for visitors to Lettuce Lake Park located just within minutes from our home; however, donations were welcome. Since recently (was it last year?), visitors are now charged $2 per vehicle. Still a great deal, considering what the park has to offer in terms of the scenic appeal of nature in close proximity to an urban center: a refuge for tired minds and a chance at communion with nature, even though it is for some brief moments.

Every time we visit Lettuce Lake Park, we always manage to notice different things from our previous trip, if we look hard enough. A different shade of color; a different encounter with the same denizens of the Park; kind of like a nuanced image that evokes differing responses based on the mood of the day.

This last visit was no difference: plenty of kodak moments, a mix of expansive vistas of the flowing river and the distant tree line and up close and personal shots of the various insects going about their business, not to mention a good workout from the walk-about, along the boardwalk and up the observation tower; in the shade and under the glare of the sun. Then there is also the pleasant surprise of meeting fellow visitors, some with sophisticated cameras with long zoom lens, but all eager to share their experiences of park hopping. On this trip, we met a gentleman who does a lot of boating at a little boat ramp that we chanced upon. He told us about the Hillsborough River State Park which we duly earmarked as a future destination. Here then is a smorgasbord of the sights that enthralled us during our most recent visit.

Wify with by now her favorite wrap-around sun glasses on the boardwalk, and another of her constant companion (other than me I mean) whenever she steps out of the home: a bottle of water, perched on top of the wooden railing.

Purplish flowers of the aquatic plants that populate the lake waters. The lettuce-like plants are what earned the name of the Park: water lettuce.

An island of plants with stems sprouting out of the water radiating outward in all directions, which are matched by their reflections but of darker hue on a unique one-to-one corresponse. Such is the symmetry of nature.

Another symmetry shot, but this time the sky and the water are reversed. I simply inverted the image as I prefer the sky to be azure blue. The obvious giveaway is the floating leaves at the top of image.

Mushroooms inserting themselves around the girth of the tree, subsisting on their host. The nature way of live and let live.

Fall is in the air already, though this hardly qualifies as the fall foliage.

Now this is the azure sky for sure, the upright observation tower is proof of that.

This would appear to be a bee ensconced comfortably at the end of a stalk that seems to defy gravity by sticking itself up. Of course this is not to be as the image has been inverted; the bee was actually clinging on to the underside of the stalk that hangs down.

Another bee exploring the floral bed, doing its assigned job as a vector of pollination.

A dragonfly with its gossamer wings alighting on a stalk.

A kind of half-way house for birds, courtesy of the homo sapiens, the gaudy color is perhaps incongruent with the lush green surrounding.
A limpkin perched high on the tree top, possibly scanning the surrounding for apple snails (I was looking up from the top of the nearby observation tower to take this shot). Just look at the long pointy beak, which is excellent for prying open the shells of apple snails: the nature law of one species holding an edge over another.

An Afternoon Eat-Out-door Experience

Our Korean friends, Mrs. Kim and her daughter, visited us last Saturday. We lived in the same gated community when we first moved to Tampa, Post Hyde Park in South Tampa, and Christina, her daughter, and CE went to the same high school and graduated from Plant High School together. Christina is now at Rice and was back during the weekend holidays.

We first had lunch at The Yummy House on Waters Avenue, a Chinese restaurant offering HongKong-style cuisine that we have passed by many times but have yet to have a taste of their food offerings. Having been a patron to many a nearby Chinese restaurant, The Yummy House became the logical choice for an afternoon gastronomic pursuit.

Tucked at a corner, the restaurant was doing quite a brisk business that day, a testimony to their popularity among patrons who yearn for a scrumptious eat-out yet not costing an arm and a leg (the latter being after the fact for us). We each ordered a dish to share: seafood taufo claypot, salt and pepper shrimp, Egg Treasure claypot, cashew nut chicken, and Buddha's Delight, a vegetarian dish. We enjoyed the culinary servings tremendously, the salt and pepper shrimp being the unanimous choice of the day, our palates satiated, and stomach, stuffed. The check came as a pleasant surprise, at just over $50 before tip. That cost outlay definitely earns them the label “at reasonable cost” in my book. And as if to demonstrate that my sentiments are not exactly in the minority, proudly displayed on a cupboard next to our table stands a plaque that reads: Best Chinese 2008, awarded by Creative Loafing Tampa. [Later I went on to the website of Creative Loafing Tampa and note that The Yummy House shares this Best of Tampa 2008 award under the food and drink section with China Yuan on North Armenia. Perhaps the latter could become our next sit-down lunch destination.]

While dining at the Yummy House, the conversation drifted to the topic of Bubble tea, a purported Taiwan phenomenon of tea innovation variously known as the Boba tea or the Tapioca Pearl tea. And we know just the right spot: Got Tea located several doors away. So that's where we ended up. Our daughters each ordered one Bubble tea, and Wify got a salted chicken [the snack bar also serves food in bento boxes (the image to the right courtesy of Got Tea) that we have partaken of on our previous visits, and other light food items]. This tea craze has swept Southeast Asia and is now making inroads into US, and was featured in the Second Asian Pacific Rim Festival 2008 as blogged here by Hilton, a fellow blogger of local food havens.

Before we left, Mrs. Kim wanted to know the origin and the meaning of Boba. I thought it could likely be a colloquial adaptation of the word, Bubble. But the proprietor offered another rather less innocent source: the moniker originated in Hong Kong where Cantonese is the lingua franca, and is purportedly a naughty reference to women with big bosom. But I sure would like to stand corrected.

Then we decided to walk some of the accumulated carb/fat intake off by strolling in a park, in excellent company. It was close to 2.30pm, right before the hottest hour of the day. Not partial to the prospect of our bodies drenched in sweat, we chose the Lettuce Lake Park for its shady boardwalk. However, we forgot about the observation tower right under the sky. In fact it's that much closer to the sun, being three levels high rising about the tree canopy. Ah well, no venture no gain. While we are already old hat at walking around the park, it was to be the very first visit of the other members of the entourage, CE included.
We managed to work out some sweat and sought refuge in the air-conditioned Visitor Center, which happened to be open then (if you have read our previous blogs on our walk through the Lake Lettuce Park, the most recent one being this, you would have noted that the Visitor Center was always closed during those morning visits). The Center is run by volunteers from the National Audobon Society with funds from the County Government.

I saw a River poem on a poster hung on one wall and decided to take a close-up shot for blogging about it later. On hindsight, I should have written it down, the good old fashioned way. That would come back to haunt me somewhat for my close-up shot turned up to be a blur when I could only make out the lines, but not the words. Then I remember that it is published by the Southwest Florida Water Management District. However, I did not find that poster on their website. Undaunted, I turned to Google, which seems to be able to locate any online material based on my past experience using the ubiquitous search engine. Using the combination of “A River Poem” and “Hillsborough River”, I waited for the search listing expectantly. But alas, the closest I could find is this river poem of sort:

In the darkness of an oaktree swamp
With its thousand-million unseen eyes
& its myriad sharp-seductive cries
beats a heart as old as it is wise

- James E. Tokley Sr., The Song of the Hillsborough

I guess that will do for now and will jot the entire poem on paper on my next visit to the Center.

Here then are some shots taken of our brief afternoon sojourn at the Lake Lettuce Park.

The foursome of sun-glassed ladies at the top of the observation tower.

CE took this shot of me gazing forlornly at the yonder. Kind of remind me of the famous prose, The Back Shadow, penned by one of the 20th Century Chinese literary giant, Zhu Zi Qing, one that we had learned while in Middle School back home, about the author's father.

A rare shot of us these days since I am usually the designated cameraman.

New Friends Around the Park

Despite it being a weekend, I woke up just before 6am this morning, and decided to leave the comfy bed to finish up Wify's application for passport renewal. She woke up slightly later and was confused for a moment whether she needed to come downstairs to prepare my breakfast, not realizing at first that it was a weekend. In both instances, it's a sign that age is catching up: getting or needing less sleep, and mind playing trick more often.

Anyway, we dropped by the Post office to mail the application package before 9am. Early birds, no queue. And overheard the lady at the counter remarking to a senior customer that we now need to work past 80, and extend the lifespan beyond that too, an allusion to the anticipated hard times now and ahead as portended by the collapse of Washington Mutual (WaMu), hot in the heels of the meltdown of investment giants Merrill Lynch and Lehman Brothers, all notable victims of the subprime crisis.

While there, Wify spotted a display of the Flags of Our Nation series of stamp, and bought one coil of 50 comprising the first series of ten designs. According to the USPS website, there will be 6 series in all, two series to be issued per year until 2010. So if you are a stamp collecting enthusiast, or philatelist, keep a lookout.
The ten designs in the first series of Flags of Our Nation stamps.

Our mission accomplished, we headed for Lettuce Lake Park to retrace our foot steps on the boardwalk made three weeks ago. The scene that greeted us was a welcome change, not only from the choke-full condition seen last time around, but also because we bumped into some new friends, as evidenced from the pictorial account that follows.


We parked next to a coach, and was greeted by a man in a kind of outdoor gear coming down the coach whether we were there to take part in the nature walk organized by Autubon Society. That was a first for us, but we respectfully declined since we have our spots where we would like to go, though I could sense that Wify seemed enthusiastic in taking up the offer, driven by the prospect of learning from an expert guide. Maybe next time.

I first bumped into this cute furly creature while it was standing, sentry-style, in the center of the pavement, viewing guardedly our approach. From a distance, I thought somebody left a brown bottle on the middle of the walkway, until it moved, when we got near. Yup, the mind is playing trick again!

Perfect reflection captured on film.

This relatively open water area is in full contrast to the meadow-like scene three weeks ago. The vagary of Nature.

We first saw this rarely seen birdie from the boardwalk on our way in one direction. Wify remarked that it's practicing mindfulness, staying motionless in this stance. On our return going in the opposite direction, our friend was still at it. But then we learned that it's a night heron, as informed by a learned fellow visitor, sweaty and all, the same guy who was running up and down the climb to the observation tower as a workout. Befitting their name, "these birds stand still at the water's edge and wait to ambush prey, mainly at night". Perhaps this one was going for a change of habit, or perhaps that was its resting pose.

This was affixed to the back of the coach we saw earlier. The blue bird at the top left is a Blue Jay, one that wify has painted.

Oh yes, Happy 10th birthday, Google, here amusing themselves with a special logo that spots a server rack.

Return to the Park

Lettuce Lake Park, that is, and more, adding another to our park hit list in the process. Due to a combination of being preoccupied (college football season has started) and inertia, we, or rather I, have not been having a walk at the park for a while now. Somehow I have managed to find excuses to postpone the walk, until two weeks ago (earlier on we did drop by the park, but it ended up as a drive through because of an unexpected drizzle).

It was a sunny morning, and we strode along the boardwalk, our usual route that skirts the river. This time, though, we managed to complete the loop due to some recent upgrading of the boardwalk (the second half was condoned off for repair on our previous trip).

We went up the observation tower, and met a lady standing next to a telescope (or was it a camera with a long zoom?) on a stand. The first thing we noticed on the surface of the river was the unusual abundance of floating plants, much like the water hyacinth back home. Then we were living in Muar, Johor and the town is just next to the Muar River, which debouches into the Straits of Malacca. These clusters of water hyacinth would move like floating islands up and down the river with the tide.

As an aside, water hyacinth can pose problems, primarily because of its fast growing ability. According to Wikipedia, “(w)hen not controlled, water hyacinth will cover lakes and ponds entirely; this dramatically impacts water flow, blocks sunlight from reaching native aquatic plants, and starves the water of oxygen, often leading to fish kills (or turtles). The plants also create a prime habitat for mosquitos, the classic vectors of disease, and a species of snail known to host a parasitic flatworm which causes schistosomiasis (snail fever).” That said, the same abundance ability can also be capitalized to provide “cattle food and in biogas production. Recently, they have also begun to be used in wastewater treatment,” the same source continues. I guess, as in most things in life, there is always a flip side. Here though, the floating plant phenomenon seems like a seasonal thing, thanks to the sub-tropical climate.

Anyway, back to the Park, and follow us through a pictorial tour seen though our eyes, or rather, camera lens. Our adventure on the park trail will resume at the end of this tour, recording today's feature.

The nearly "choked" stream.

A young bird roosting atop the floating aquatic plants, serving both as a foothold and fodder.

The many species of wild flowers next to the boardwalk.

The cluster of planted flowers at the entrance to the Park office.

A piggyback drinking fountain, the little one is for the dogs. How thoughtful!

I read about the Creek Trout Park, one of the Six separate parks making up the county owned Wilderness Park complex (previously, we have already been to two of these: Morris Bridge and Flatwoods Parks). That's where we were this morning. This too is equipped with a off-road biking track and walking trails, but we restricted our visit to just taking the short boardwalk that partly runs along the river bank and making a brief stop at the canoe launch site. Enjoy the sights that met our eyes.

The entrance sign beckons.

This was taken at the notice board located in the middle of car park featuring the continuous canoe route linking the various parks.

One of the many picnic shelters in the park. And a trail lies yonder.

A family canoe expedition.

Wify directed this shot, saying that the fallen branch, just touching the water surface, with a couple of sub-branches pointed skyward in an oblique way, constrasts with the multi-tiered tree canopy seen across the river.

Fair warning. I added the Gator-on-Bike shot cut from a shot of another signage on post because it looks cute. Go Gators, beating the Vols 30-6 today!

I counted more than 20 of these catfish-like fish lazing at the river bottom next to the canoe launch facility.

A Tale of Two Parks

Over two days. And both within minutes from our home. Yesterday evening we dropped by the Lettuce Lake Park for a change of scenery during a different time of the day (the previous visit was at noon). Mark was nowhere to be seen, but armed with our newly acquired knowledge, thanks to Mark, we set out on our own.

We had better luck this time though, spotting a young gator lazing on a small log. We would have missed it if not for a couple training their eyes in a certain direction, the male through a long-lens camera. So instinct told me that it had to be something unique. I was able to locate the alligator while wify needed some guidance before the outline of the alligator was reflected into her retina which the brain then interpreted, after scourging through the stored images including those of Alberto and Alberta (the UF mascots), as a close cousin of the crocodile, with a different shape of the snout.

Then there was the blue heron (or was it the snowy egret? We could not be sure as we could not see its legs clearly). However, the evening scenery was as panoramic as the noon's.

The observation tower in the distance, framed within the branches draped all over by spanish moss.

The young gator, motionless, oblivious to the attention it had attracted. When we doubled back about half an hour later, it was in about the same posture. Talk about the ability to maintain stillness, the very best candidate for a meditation stance. The slightly blurred image is the result of extending the optical zoom (3X) on our Nikon Colorpix L6, so I reasoned.

The first time we spotted the blue heron, roosting on a shallow shoal.

The same blue heron from a different part of the walkway. Look at the near perfect reflection of the blue sky above, and the reflected image of the head of the blue heron, as if it had just emerged from the tree canopy.

The eagle has landed. No, it's the same blue heron, exercising its ability to fly, perched on a branch amidst the leaves, and playing hide and seek with me.

Today, we decided to drop by USF, just across the street from us. The place we visited faces the Psychology Building, where we know there is a lake from our prior visit to the campus. The time was evening too. However, instead of a multitude of wildlife like in Lettuce Lake Park, this lake setting is dominated by monoculture: ducks. There were everywhere, in the lake, in the air (ducks do fly), on the bank, up on the pavement, and even on a bridge railing. Also, they get close to the human species, of which there were many then, people like us yearning for some quiet solace in an urban setting.

We sauntered twice over the looped paved walkway, enjoying the cool breeze brushing by, the sun setting in the distance. Further afield at the Music Building, several people were seen hurrying toward it, each lugging a piece of musical instrument. We also heard several musical notes emitting from the Building, disrupting the stillness, the otherwise quiet save for the birds squawking. “A musical performance may be slotted for the night,” wify commented.

At first, we thought this could just be a nameless place of quiet refuge for USF students to seek communion with nature, giving the mind a well-earned rest from the seemingly incessant book cramming in order to stay afloat in the academic setting. Then we passed by a monument, declaring this to be the Simmons Park, dedicated to the memory of Ellsworth G. Simmons, a Tampa civic leader.

Hence, a tale of two parks, at close proximity but different in all other aspects. It's our good fortune that we live close to them, by design of sort but gradually discovering the locational advantage of our chosen residence, a time-lapsed unveiling process that guarantees more pleasant surprises to come.

A panaromic view of the USF lake, colonized by ducks only.

The denizens of the lake, one of which was standing on the bank nearby as if on sentinel duty, giving me a "Don't mess with me" look when I approached.

Wify standing on one of the two bridge crossings, with the fountain as the backdrop.

A duck on a railing, a proof that this duck flies. It obviously can't climb with its webbed feet.

Wify standing next to the Maple tree, a bit of deduction on my part from its distintive leaf shape. Scroll down for the next image for a closeup.

The sharp pointed leaves characteristic of maple leaves, as seen here, the branches seemingly ensnarling a jumbo, a photographic trick applied just in time by yours truly, after mentally calculating the relative position of the plane, allowing for its forward speed, with respect to my ground position vis-a-vis the stationary tree on the fly ... Just kidding.

An urban sunset, the sun as if escaping from the out-stretched booms of the two tower cranes while the ducks seemingly scuttling away from its reflection on the lake resulting in tiny wave crests rippling across the lake surface.