In the Sink

I could have spent the whole day in Special Collections today but I quit at noon because I had an urgent appointment with an anhinga, a heron, an ibis, and an alligator, all hanging out in the slimy dampness of the Alachua Sink.

If the Alachua Savannah is a big bathtub, the Sink is its drain--a deep hole in the bedrock where water sinks into the underground aquifer. Right now, it's the sole wet spot in the drought-stricken area and a great place to see water-loving wildlife. The Sink itself is a slimy green oval surrounded by moss-draped oaks and a boardwalk, and at first I couldn't see the turtles for the leaves. Big gators drifted across the water while three juveniles sunned on a rock and ibises dabbled in the water nearby.

I really wanted to join them to cool off after the hot hike out there, but I'm not sure the gators would have appreciated my company. Next time I visit a Sink, I'll remember to take some soap.