A personal glimpse of outdoor destinations in and around the Carolinas. All photos and content copyrighted.
As we soon discovered, the groundbreaking was for a ground breaking expansion. Sylvan Heights is building an accessible treehouse so that those with physical impairments may enjoy the park and its residents. Funded in part by several organizations both mentioned and represented at the event, the octagon-shaped "Bird's Nest" will overlook three levels of wetlands to be restored in the woods behind existing exhibits.
The grand opening should be held this summer. We hope to be there for it.
Sylvan Heights is located in Scotland Neck, NC, approximately eighteen miles from historic Halifax. To keep up-to-date on the opening and other events at Sylvan Heights, visit their new blog at http://sylvanheightsblog.blogspot.com/
A delightful visit. But we didn't expect anything less.
Like Phelps Lake, Lake Mattamuskeet, Alligator Lake (aka, New Lake) and the three lakes in Croatan National Forest, Pungo Lake is a pocosin lake, which means it's surrounded by thickets consisting mainly of short bay trees and shrubs with Latin names I can't pronounce. To give it a decidedly southern touch, Magnolia virginiana, or Sweetbay magnolia, grows in the midst.
As I mentioned in my previous post, we finally found the lake, but of course, we spotted only about a half dozen swans floating around. During an informative conversation with Gail and Steve, bird enthusiasts we met on the way to Pungo, we learned migrating waterfowl are all but gone by March. Along with a time frame to return next season, Gail suggested the best place to find those elusive snow geese is Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge, located on the Outer Banks. Indeed, a month or so before this we'd spotted a couple of white feathered fowl floating around the marshes near the Pea Island Visitor's Center before rain sent us home. In a voice filled with a sadness I've come to understand, Gail told us the number of snow geese has diminished greatly over the past decade. Once they "were all over, and walking in the road". But no more.
The presence of farms inside Pungo Unit may confuse you. After all, this is a national refuge. As I've recently learned, the farms are part of the sanctuary. Farmers are permitted to grow crops, but they must leave twenty percent of the harvest behind for refuge animals. I'm sure the birds love this. We spotted plenty of them feasting on fallen grain.
But we found the lake, and that's what's important. Another good day along the ENC coast.
Twice last year we tried to find this obscure body of water, and twice we failed. Once, our GPS indicated it was beside the dusty road on which we stood. Having seen it as a destination in my exploring north carolina book, as well as other resources, I knew it had to have an entrance. But where? After zooming in and scooting the image left, right, up and down on both digital maps, I found two potential access points to the lake. I set the GPS for one and my iTouch maps app for the other.
We had unexpected company on this trip. Following directions dished out by our GPS, we drove east on Hwy 264, then turned north on Hwy 99 in the heart of charming Pantego. After turning right onto Hwy 45, we spotted an impressive flock of large, white birds resting in the midst of winter wheat. Though we suspected we'd found more Tundra Swans--yet still hoping we'd found the elusive snow geese--we pulled off the road near a couple taking pictures beside a truck.
Over five miles wide, like Phelps and Pungo (also located on the Albemarle-Pamlico Peninsula) Lake Mattamuskeet is shallow, on average, just two feet deep.3 According to exploring north carolina's natural areas, it's also the largest Pocosin lake in the southeast United States.4 If you've seen a map of North Carolina, you've seen this lake—it looks like a hole punched out in the bottom of the raggedy middle flap of NC's coast.
Finding Mattamuskeet wasn't hard. We traveled east on Hwy 264 until we reached Hwy 94, then we turned left. Thankfully (for us, not the birds) this highway slices north-south through the center of the lake. We parked on a grassy shoulder a mile down the road and were promptly blown away. Hundreds of brown ducks that we mistook as broken wood or the bases of trees drifted in the shallow water near the shore. Shortly after, they took flight.
Beauty makes me weep, and the sight of that large flock flowing gracefully through the sky before us nearly brought me to tears. Only the unequivocal joy surging through me as I watched them and several herons lounging nearby kept the brine at bay.
Fifty-two pictures later, we resumed our journey, and for the next hour we observed and photographed more waterfowl than I've seen at one time: Blue Herons. White Herons. Canada Geese and a long stretch of birds floating a mile down the lake captivated us. We stopped at the observation pier, located near the midpoint of the road, and watched Tundra swans floating past an island of cypress trees, its knobby knees sticking up like a bed of nails. I jerked the car off the side of the road at my husband's command when we spotted herons perched in a tree. We photographed a clutch of herons standing in still waters, their reflections as clear and defined as the birds themselves. We continued on until hunger forced us to find food.
Mattamuskeet is a must for bird and nature enthusiast, and anyone who loves beauty. And there's more to explore than what we saw. If you view the lake through Google Earth, you can see a jetty or boardwalk jutting into the water on the east side, and several small islands on the west. We'll have another chance, though. We still have that January outing, and I wouldn't be surprised if we slipped back there in December. Wouldn't you?