Break or initial cap

Not surprisingly, the islands' biggest attraction is a nature preserve. And not just any nature preserve, but the second or third most popular of America's 535 national wildlife refuges, with more than 850,000 visitors a year. Founded in 1945, it's named after Ding Darling, who wintered at the 'Tween Waters Inn in the late '30s and '40s and who was one of the founders of the conservation movement. It's a big place, over 5,000 acres. Several of the guidebooks refer to the beauty of Ding Darling as being "subtle," which worried me a little. Would it be too subtle? A couple of Crackers were holding forth at the pool bar and a good time was being had by all. Why ruin it with a nature preserve? I've lived in Florida for 20 years and frankly, when it comes to flora and fauna, I've seen it all.

Torn between the pool bar and the nature preserve-isn't that the Florida vacation dilemma? Fortunately the spirit of Sanibel and Captiva won out, and I got down to Ding Darling just in time for the last tour.

Yes, the beauty was subtle. But the information! Every new Floridian should be required to spend a day here. I've never seen a place that so brilliantly described what's going on around here, nature-wise.

By all means, take the tram tour. You can drive yourself, but then you don't get an expert to explain things to you. Of course, you also don't get an idiot who brings his cell phone on a nature tour and keeps taking calls on it. The rest of us were furious. We finally had the tour guide talk to him.

The best part was the birds. Thanks to the tour I finally know their names. During the five miles we encountered all my favorites: the black one who holds its wings up to dry (that turned out to be the double-crested cormorant); and the pink one that isn't a flamingo (the roseate spoonbill); and even the one that attacked me at the gas pump (a great blue heron.) We found out what they eat (mostly mosquito larvae) and saw their rookeries, although I wish now I'd asked what a rookery was.

You also encounter many other creatures on the tour, including crabs, spiders and even a mullet, who leapt out of the water at the perfect moment and flopped three times before disappearing again. The guide explained they do that to clear their sinuses.

There was also a family of raccoons, which I felt a little sorry for. Of all the species they benefit the least from a wildlife refuge. The visiting humans are on their best ecological behavior and won't dare feed them no matter how hard they beg. Consequently they are tiny little things. The garbage-eating raccoons who live in my back yard look like linebackers compared to these waif-like creatures, who stand by the side of the road with their paws out, their sad and soulful eyes pleading. It makes you realize just how cruel nature can be.

I left Ding Darling, that supposedly subtle place, feeling a little overwhelmed. It was now clear to me that it was entirely up to us. The other species just didn't get it. If the water temperature goes up one degree, they stop reproducing. You would think for the good of the Earth they would grit their teeth and try and live with warm water, but they don't. They are indifferent to such things.

And so is nature. It needs just the right balance. The islanders have fought for it and preserved it on Sanibel and Captiva but the outlook for the rest of Florida is scary. It really is being gobbled up. Soon humans will be everywhere and the little crabs and fishes will be history. Not a happy note to end a getaway vacation on, but one I think Sanibel and Captiva would approve of.