the sleppys

We finally made it to Hidden Lake.

What has yet to be told is what this means to the Sleppys. We are a hardcore family, focused on our own achievements. We don’t have cable, we don’t go to government school, and we sure as hell don’t go to “Gymboree.” However, we set family goals, like hiking to Hidden Lake, where few tread, and we plan and plot our own way to success. We set our own goals, so when we are finally able to achieve them in absolute annonimity let me tell you it is real. Can you say that about your family? We can prove it. And we are only at the beginning.

This morning, we woke up and went to my parents’ house. My mom was there with my grandmother, who was visiting from a country far, far away where they don’t speak English. We stayed to wait for my big brother who was bringing his 10-month old son over. It turns out that they went to Gymboree and later visited our mom. Well, we had a good lunch, anyway. Filled myself with BBQ ribs and raisins (but not in the same dish because those two don’t go – or they could, couldn’t they?) We drove home and relaxed. While websurfing, Dear Husband stated, “There’s a full moon now.” So we decided to be spontaneous for the first time since we’ve been parents, and we drove to the Everglades to see the full moon and witness half of the Everglades fall asleep while the other half of the Everglades wakes up.

We saw the afternoon showers’ forming in the horizon while driving on the turnpike. When we drove into the park, we spotted an alligator floating in Taylor Slough, which we never see. This was the first time in the Everglades in the late afternoon, so we expected things to be a little different. We walked the Anhinga Trail about twenty minutes before sunset. It’s a mile-long boardwalk that overlooks the wetland prairie and goes around the southern part of Taylor Slough. There were a few tourists and photographers walking past us, ready to go home. We were one of the two parties who had intentionally stayed in the Everglades at dusk.

We, Dear Husband, Ty, Kyle, Taylor, Kendall, Talon, and Yours Truly, tried to be as quiet as possible during this time because we knew that the animals were calling each other. We couldn’t actually SEE the frogs and birds, but we could hear them. Every once in a while, we’d hear the deep, thick splashing of an alligator. Holy, holy. Yes, alligators. There was one blue heron that was busy catching flies and didn’t pay us any mind.

The sun set. The clouds were lines of orange and purple. The rising moon was blocked in the east by rain clouds. We stayed on the Anhinga,, hoping that the clouds would disperse and the full moon would shine. In a clearing, we could see Jupiter. The full moon’s light was diffused by he clouds, and it lit the path for us just a little bit. We could see the golden orange glow from the metropolis in the northeast.

We ran into the party that had stayed on the Trail. They were two young men who were looking for alligators. It was pleasant to know that we weren’t the only ones out there.

On the leg of the trail, we almost ran into an alligator and her two babes. We were twenty feet from the last leg of the trail but turned around and took the extra half mile around instead of coaxing her.

If that wasn’t freaky enough, Dear Husband and I agreed to hike the Gumbo Limbo Trail. It’s a half-mile paved trail in the hardwood hammock. We took out our flashlights and practiced pointing them out of people’s faces. We walked in. What were we thinking? Five children under seven? Every once in a while, we’d hold our LED flashlights to our stomachs and look around into utter darkness – except for the moonlight-diffusing clouds overhead. We didn’t see anything creepy. Only once did my heart skip a beat because I thought that a fern was a boa constrictor.

We might do that again soon. I’m really glad that we have this park nearby. It helps the children learn about the real nightlife of South Florida.