Flat, calm waters without a breeze. Thick, torrid air that combines with afternoon rains providing the proverbial daily sauna. That sums up the primary characteristics of this year’s summer in Florida. Oh, and hurricanes. We can’t forget the season that brings the inherent nerves associated with Atlantic Ocean cyclones.
When a storm arrived, the land and our waterways adjusted and transformed in some manner. Large storms have their place in nature. It’s a give and take situation. Nature takes, and in time gives back.
Erosion displaces sand but eventually replenishes the dunes. The barrier islands become reinforced with redistributed sandy bottoms. Dryer areas become refreshed. Seagrasses are mowed clean over, leaving a seafloor darn right desert-like. Yet with all grasses, it grows back quickly and bristles with life. Trees are uprooted and replaced with new saplings, reshaping the boundaries and shorelines. The seas are turned to a messy shade of mocha. When sediments become stirred up, that’s nature shifting and creating new life all the while recharging the waterways. In time, the waterways will return to their deep turquoise color, teeming with new life. One thing always remains, though: the fish.
Just like us, fish evacuate during the storm for a short time but return from the chaos hungry. I tend to like the hot bite after a storm. But like the fish, we as humans have to adjust to the changes as well. It’s cyclical, just like nature. After a storm, I will seek out satellite photos and try and adapt to the newly formed bottoms and habitats and find new favorite fishing spots. It’s a balancing act as nature shifts the picture relentlessly, but it all eventually balances out continuously.