Where You Going?

​On average I'm seeing my Popeye Gator about once a week. It's not for a lack of trying though. This was actually the day after I captured all the Bellowing try outs.

Sometimes the light just doesn't want to cooperate. The deep shadows of night from the cypress lined shoreline persisted long after the sunrise .That's OK. I was just happy to see my Boy! Whenever I can detect that massive jaw line underneath the water's surface I can't help but to think of an iceberg. What you see on the surface doesn't even begin to compare to what's submerged...

My heart almost stopped when he swam closer to crawl out of the water onto a narrow stretch of dry ground. I can't even begin to describe the excitement of witnessing my Dragon King come out of his safe space just like his kind has done for millennia. It's like I'm watching a movie in slow-mo , transfixed but full of that Fight or Flight mode fueled by an ever present adrenaline rush that floods my system every single time I spot him . To hear the soft swishing of the water as his bulk glided up, branches snapping sharply as his weight crushed forward like an icebreaker. It's like I'm a junkie forever searching for that one and only fix that can calm me down and wear me out when I'm scouting for his presence. What an addiction…

You can easily see the bluish scarring on this Ole Gator's right eye that earned him his namesake of Popeye. He keeps the eye closed more often than not, giving him a signature squint of that cartoon character from days gone by…

​If you look closely you can see the nictitating membrane almost closed across the surface of that ancient eye . It serves as a third eyelid that protects the eye as it slides sideways when the Gator is underwater or striking @ prey or blinking. Unlike our eyelids that shutter on the vertical (Alligators have those too) this specialized lid engages horizontally. What an evolutionary marvel this guy is...

Alas our visit came to an abrupt halt as something caught his attention from across the pond. I had to say Goodbye far too soon to suit me. Was it a competing male or a female waiting for him or even the promise of prey? I will never know. As he turned to go I heard and saw an explosion of air bubbles as he prepared to submerge like a submarine in pursuit of his intended target. I watched him disappear underneath the surface of that black water with barely a ripple. Till Later My Gator...

I can't thank my long suffering Shotgun Rider enough for quietly enduring my Gator visits for so many mornings. She knows she can't get out here so she resigns herself to a nap in the backseat until I either tire of waiting for some action to occur or my subject stands me up. Either way, she gets to ride and then is rewarded with a walk in a safer spot away from home. Love my Hazel Mae!