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Birds abound in Florida wildlife refuge

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A great egret perches on a fallen branch.

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The most enjoyable vacation I ever experienced was at the J.N. "Ding" Darling National Wildlife Refuge on Sanibel Island in southwest Florida. Its variety of natural life from the subtropical and temperate zones is incomparable.

The refuge is named for Jay Norwood Darling (1877-1962), a cartoonist for the Des Moines Register who dropped three letters of his name and signed his work "Ding." A two-time Pulitzer Prize winner, he was interested in politics and conservation, and his work reached an audience of millions.

He designed the nation's first federal migratory bird hunting stamp in 1934, beginning a fund-raising effort that has generated millions of dollars for the acquisition of wetland habitat for wildlife.

In July 1934, President Franklin Roosevelt asked Darling to head the U.S. Biological Survey, the forerunner of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Darling also used his cartoons to bring greater national attention to wildlife conservation. A pioneer in the field of proper game management, he initiated the migratory bird conservation commission and made great strides toward bringing hunters and conservationists together.

Concerned about air and water pollution and the extinction of wildlife, Darling was largely responsible for establishing the network of game refuges in this country today. His poignant cartoons depicted wildlife in a shrinking environment. Some called Darling the best friend ducks ever had.

Sanibel Island lies off the western coast of Florida; Captiva Island, where Darling had a winter home, now is an over-the-bridge extension of Sanibel. In 1945, a portion of this subtropical barrier of silt, shell and sand was established as Sanibel National Wildlife Refuge, a mecca for myriad species of wildlife. In 1967, this refuge was renamed as a tribute to Darling, a pioneer of the conservation movement.

Wading birds are plentiful along the refuge's five-mile wildlife drive, bordered on one side by brackish water and on the other by saltwater. The land is drained by tides and interspersed with grass, brush, and mangrove — habitat for herons, egrets, white ibises, wood storks and sometimes roseate spoonbills. Alligators are there, too, and horseshoe crabs. Snowy and great egrets often gather in early morning; black skimmers break the surface of the water. Reddish egrets, great blue herons, and yellow- and black-crowned night herons are common as well.

A canoe trail winds through the 4,975-acre refuge. During our visit years ago, my husband and I paddled on our own into what appeared to be another time in another world.

Propelling the canoe through that watery tangle, we soon found we needed to rest our arms. So in a swamp that echoed with bird calls, where turtles sunned on time-worn logs, snakes swam by, herons flew overhead, and egrets preened their feathers within our view, we set down our paddles and retrieved from our pockets a couple of peanut-butter-and-jam sandwiches.