Winter Friday at Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge

NOTE: I started writing this post in January 2021, abandoned it only and completed it today.


I moved the blinds aside and peeked out the window. I wanted to do this, but the air looked cold and windy. I enjoyed this off my to-do list, and I needed a sense of accomplishment.

I dressed rapidly in the dim light and said a quiet good morning to Sir Alphonso Mango. The younger cat always waited eagerly for me at the bedroom door. Alphie was still hungry. He ran past me as I walked downstairs to make coffee.

I had packed my gear into sling bags the night before but then unpacked them to use my Fuji X-T2. My camera gear was in a messy pile on the floor. I would bring one digital and two analogue cameras on this trip and four lenses. My digital kit included the Fuji X-T2, XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR, and the XF27mmF2.8. My analogue gear was the Minolta XG-1 with MD Rokkor-X 45mm F2 and Pentax P3n with SMC Pentax-A 55mm F2. I also packed extra batteries for the Fuji, my diabetes kit, and some snacks.

The kettle was boiling, and Alphie had eaten his breakfast. The coffee bean grinder made an awful racket. Alphie didn’t like the noise, so he rapidly left the room. I inhaled the sweet odour from the coffee grinds and began my coffee-making ritual. I had a leisurely breakfast of avocado on toast, then put my photography gear into the car.

I’ve been remiss in starting my Honda Accord once a week to keep the battery fresh. More than once, I’ve turned the key only to be disappointed with the silence from the engine. But not this morning. Maps provided directions while U2’s Joshua Tree album flowed through the car audio. I was on my way.

Driving to the Edinw B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge starting around 10 AM, I met with very little traffic, perhaps made even less than typical because of the pandemic shelter-in-place rules. The federal government built the I-195 highway to connect the northern section of the Jersey Shore with Trenton. There are exits near Jackson for the Six Flags Great Adventure amusement park and Jackson Premium Outlets, but most of this road is non-descript. My exit point was at New Canton, an unincorporated community located along the borders between Robbinsville Township in Mercer County and Upper Freehold Township in Monmouth County.

As I made the turn onto Sharon Station Road (aka County Route 539) and began the longest section of the trip, I looked up at the mostly cloudy skies, and I wondered whether it would blight the day’s field trip. County Route 539 (CR 539) extends 87.42 km from Main Street (aka U.S. Route 9) in Tuckerton to CR 535 in Cranbury Township. This portion of my drive took me through decreasing residential development and into the densely forested Pine Barrens before an interchange with the Garden State Parkway. This was the most boring part of the drive. The cellular reception was terrible on this narrow one-lane county roads lined on either side with "sugar sand" and with nothing to see except the tunnel of pine trees. I was happy when I saw the exit for the Garden State Parkway.

This section of the GSP is more scenic than most, passing through wetlands and tributaries of the Mullica River. I took the exit for New York Road, an extension of Route 9, passing through two towns, Smithville and Oceanville, with uninspiring names, before turning off onto Lilly Lake Road, par of the long entrance to the refuge.


The air is dry and chilly when I arrive at the Admin Building And Visitor Contact Station and remains that way during the trip. The gusty winds are forceful, pointing to some tricky conditions for photography over the next few hours.

Only two areas of New Jersey classify as wilderness, Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge and Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge. The Brigantine National Wildlife Refuge was established in 1939, and Barnegat National Wildlife Refuge was established in 1967. In 1984 the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service combined both to create the Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge. Although the refuge consists of more than 39,000 acres, less than 7,000 acres in the southern division in Brigantine qualify as wilderness.

Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 26.6 mm | f/11 | ISO 400

The visitor centre was closed due to the pandemic. I walked around the building, looking for a map of the refuge. Several trails are available, but I chose the woodland trail and started my hike in my haste to make good of my limited time here. The scenery was dull, but I continued the intersection to Great Creek Road. I'm not lost, but I am not where I want to be. Which direction takes me to the wetlands? I stopped a woman walking her dog, and she points east along Great Creek Road. When I got to the end of Great Creek Road, I realised my mistake.

Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 16.5 mm | f/11 | ISO 400
Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 28.3 mm | f/11 | ISO 400

The large trail through the refuge is a one-way loop road, Wildlife Drive, and is best taken by car. I walked along the Gull Pond Road back to my car, hopped in and started driving slowly on Wildlife Drive. But I was immediately distracted by the view of Atlantic City in the distance and pulled over at the entrance to the Leeds EcoTrail.

I set up the tripod on the boardwalk, but the sunlight was coming from the southeast, and with very few clouds in the sky, making exposures was complicated. I captured a few shots and returned to the car.

Leeds EcoTrail | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 21.3 mm | f/22 | ISO 400
Leeds EcoTrail | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 16 mm | f/22 | ISO 400

Back in the car, I turned onto Wildlife Drive. The road is unpaved and uneven and very dusty, and the speed limit is 15mph. The road is wide enough for two cars side by side but also has pull-over areas. A motorist can leave their cars but cannot step off the road for fear that one might disturb the animals that live here. I, of course, forgot that rule, but a stern-looking woman in an SUV reminded me as she pointed her binoculars in the direction of a large grouping of American black ducks.

I captured the following photographs on the forty-five-minute drive around the loop road. I was sure I would see more birds, but April to July are probably the best months to visit the refuge, not January and November.

Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 55 mm | f/11 | ISO 400
Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 16 mm | f/11 | ISO 800

I focused my attention on landscape photography. Setting up the camera on the tripod was tedious. I tend to focus on getting my composition right, and I blocked the road a few times. There seemed to be more cars with birdwatchers and photographers than when I started the drive.

Seventy-eight per cent Of the refuge's 47,000 acres is saltmarsh. Saltmarsh is considered one of the most productive land on earth, twice as productive as even the richest farm fields. This makes salt marshes an essential nursery for young fish and a great buffer to the upland coastline for nor’easters, hurricanes, and strong waves. It is also a nesting habitat for coastal songbirds such as Salt Marsh and Seaside Sparrows and feeding grounds for many ducks, geese, herons, and egrets.

Most of the salt marsh appears to look the same, and that is because only a few plant species, which are specially adapted to tolerate saltwater, are capable of growing here. A mould attacked and killed eelgrass in the 1930s, causing a rapid drop in the brant bird population, but all It seemed like all I could see was grass.

Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 38.8 mm | f/11 | ISO 800
Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 55 mm | f/5.0 | ISO 200

I had a roll of Rollei RPX 100 in my Minolta and alternated between exposing a few frames and shooting on my Fuji. But the winds grew stronger and colder, and the sun started to set. Photography became more challenging. I returned to the visitor centre, quickly ate the lunch I packed, and headed home.

Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 41.4 mm | f/22 | ISO 200
Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge | Friday 22 January, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 33.2 mm | f/22 | ISO 200

Anemone americana

I observed some early spring treasure, Hepatica Nobilis flowers, growing in a small patch along the Aunt Molly trail section of the St. Michael's Farm Preserve and then got back to thinking about life, the universe and everything.

Bhavna and went out for a late afternoon walk. While I knew that this would trigger my spring allergies, she could sense my anxiety. A recruiter had left a message earlier in the day that his client was ready to make an offer. I have been interviewing for this role since December of 2020. The role was originally a contract/consulting role. Still, the hiring manager at this New York City-based financial services firm thinks I would make a good addition to his team and offered, if I accepted, to make me a full-time employee. Bhavna could sense I was not excited. We walked and talked about why.

I observed some early spring treasure, American americana flowers, growing in a small patch along the Aunt Molly trail section of the St. Michael's Farm Preserve and then got back to thinking about life, the universe and everything.

UPDATE: I have learned that the classification of Hepatica has been in dispute. Previously, authorities identified these plants as a single species with two varieties, Hepatica nobilis var. acuta and Hepatica nobilis var obtusa. But according to the US Wildflowers database, these two plants are now species in the Anemone genus. Hepatica nobilis var. acuta is now Anemone acutiloba, and Hepatica nobilis var obtusa is now Anemone americana.

Hepatica nobilis flowers
Anemone americana. | Monday 5 April, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 55 mm | 116000 sec at f/2.8 | ISO 3200

As more people are vaccinated, conversations have shifted from worrying about infection rates and mask-wearing to excitement about returning to “normal”. But what does that mean?

Does it mean a "normal" 2-4 hour daily commute inside metal boxes (cars, buses, trains)? Does it mean going back to leaving the house before sunrise and getting back home after sunset? Do I really want to give up the 4 extra hours I learned to enjoy under lockdown to non-productive “travelling”? Why do we want to return to this 1950s era idea of “normal”?

I have not read the book, but my youngest shared the following quote from "The Little Book of Lykke: Secrets of the World's Happiest People" by Meik Wiking.

I propose a new mandatory course for all university students. Every student in the class is squeezed into the smallest closet possible, and they have to stand there for forty-five minutes without making eye contact with anyone. If you make eye contact, you fail. Then they are asked to move into an even smaller closet—in which they won’t all fit. If you don’t make it into the second wardrobe, you fail the course. I call it “Commuting 101.” "The Little Book of Lykke: Secrets of the World's Happiest People (The Happiness Institute Series)"

That shouldn’t be the goal. I want to work remotely as much as possible, avoid the daily stress of a long commute, and use my precious time for other more important things.

I want a workday that allows me time to enjoy the peacefulness of the early morning. I want to sit outside1 with a hot cup of coffee and listen to a bird song. I want a workday that allows me to take a break to have lunch with my friends2 at a local restaurant. I want a workday that allows me to end my day to have time for dinner with my family or perhaps have a pint or two with my friends at the nearby tavern.

Hepatica nobilis flowers
American americana. | Monday 5 April, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 55 mm | 1/1250 sec at f/4.0 | ISO 3200

During the lockdown, while the weather permitted, Bhavna and I enjoyed a hike in the woods or a walk around our neighbourhood almost every other day. I saw my neighbours and could chat with them (from a distance). The old normal kept us all away from each other. I relish keeping the remote work and having an end of day backyard BBQs with my neighbours. Why wait for a weekend?

During the lockdown, I got up before work every day and had a proper relaxing breakfast while looking out the kitchen window and feeling the sun rising in the backyard. For the first time in 21 years, I noticed how the sunlight casts shadows in my kitchen; how the autumn light cast a golden glow on the maple trees—the old normal morning rush to get to work never allowed for that. Heck, to catch the express train, I had to wait to buy breakfast at work and eat at my desk.

The only time I used my car in 2020 was to pick up lunch at the food truck. If we had one car, we could reduce our expenses due to auto-repair and insurance. I would be able to chauffeur Bhavna to work every day. We could reduce our carbon footprint as well. Anyone of the newer hatchback EVs like the Tesla Model Y or Kia EV6 would be cheaper to run and has enough range to get us to Boston, Washington D.C., or Seneca Lake Ithaca, New York on a single charge.

During the lockdown, the workday ended between 5 and 6 PM. I could help make dinner. The old normal rush to get home at the end of a long workday meant I was either eating from the freezer or reheating dinner. And eating it by myself.

Hepatica nobilis flowers
Anemone americana. | Monday 5 April, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 55 mm | 1/2000 sec at f/5.6 | ISO 3200

My mom shared a video recorded by a doctor from Ghana arriving in New York City and his surprise and first impressions. That got me wondering about Bequia, and soon, I was down a rabbit hole of videos showcasing the natural beauty and simpler life that I left behind over three decades ago. When I watch videos like this, I ask myself, 'Why the heck did I ever leave? How is this American life better than that one? Why am I still here?"

As I pondered a return to the “old normal” with those videos in my head, I had an epiphany. Perhaps my anguish is not just with working from home but with the entirety of my current life.

What if I could work remotely 100% of the time? Would I still live in New Jersey? What if I rented out my home in New Jersey and moved somewhere else? What if I had a home on Bequia with high-speed broadband? What if I could work remotely from Bequia and earn enough to cover living expenses and enough leftovers for savings? What if I could design a new life for me and Bhavna, one without the stress of the “hustle”?

Hepatica flower
Anemone americana. | Monday 5 April, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF16-55mmF2.8 R LM WR @ 55 mm | 1220 sec at f/11 | ISO 3200

Ultimately, this job offers is the only one I have received since my contract ended in December. We are rapidly burning through all the extra money we save by doing nothing in 2020. Part of me is panicked that we could be dipping into retirement savings if I pass on this opportunity. Then what? And if I take the job, then I'll be back to slogging two hours to New York City.

I was not too fond of the old normal, and I don’t want to return to it. I asked for three days to consider the offer. I need to give them an answer today.

spicebush flowers
Northern spicebush (Lindera benzoin) | Monday 5 April, 2021 | FujiFilm X-T2 | XF27mmF2.8 | 16400 sec at f/5.6 | ISO 3200

  1. We have a small backyard deck, but I want a small paver-stone patio to put some chairs and tables. 
  2. Co-workers can be friends too, but it takes me a while before I feel I can be vulnerable around them. 

Bequia, August 1998

NOTE: Last year, after I bought a scanner to digitise my 35mm film negatives and old prints, I discovered a box full of developed Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200 canisters. I was excited when I found a roll containing images from the last time I visited the land of my birth. I quickly sent off the rolls to be scanned by ScanSafe in their Noritsu Koki EZ scanner. I apologise for the quality of the images. I was technologically ignorant of photography then and bought into the hype behind APS (compact and easy) without understanding the downsides (low quality, expensive). The APS canister was in poor condition in my basement and didn't age well. I was also an inexperienced photographer, and whatever point-n-shoot thingy I put these rolls through was cheap. Here are the images and as much as I can remember about our trip.

Decades ago, in August 1998, Bhavna were in Antigua for my younger brother’s wedding. A few days after the wedding, we hopped on a charter flight to visit St. Vincent to visit Dad and then to Bequia to visit my grandmother. Bhavna had her first chance to experience the islands where I was born and raised.

Leaving Kingstown Harbour | 6 August 1998

Dad was still a Kingstown branch manager for Barclays Bank, PLC. Bhavna and I stayed with Dad and Mom at the bunkhouse. Barclays always provided housing for senior staff. My parents had rented out the family home on Dorsetshire Hill. We took a few days to explore St. Vincent, but I was excited to get to Bequia. Bhavna had heard so much about this magical island that was lost in time, and I wanted her to meet Mom’s mother, whom I affectionately called “Mama”.

In the Bequia Channel | 13 August 1998

My cousin, Cashena "Suzie" Wallace and her husband, Elvis Gooding, operate Admiralty Transport Company Ltd, one of two ferry services between St. Vincent and Bequia. Around 9 AM, we took the ferry leaving from Kingstown Harbour. Bequia and St.Vincent's are about nine miles apart; depending on the weather, it takes about one hour from port to port.

Arriving at Admiralty Bay, Port Elizabeth | 5 August 1998 | Noritsu Koki EZ Controller | SMC Pentax-A 50mm f/2 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Mom, her cousin Emmanuel Corea, and me | 6 August 1998

Admiralty Bay is on the sheltered west side of Bequia and is known locally in Bequia as "de Harbour". The horseshoe bay offers good protection from the weather for visiting yachts and local ferries, which run between the Grenadine islands regularly. The capital village of Port Elizabeth is tucked safely in the heart of Admiralty Bay, with a selection of shops clustered along the front street.

As we arrived at the dock at Port Elizabeth, memories of summers long past flooded my mind. The noise level in the ferry increased with the chatter of passengers readying their belongings for departure. Mom's cousin, Emmanuel Corea, who runs a taxi service around Bequia, greeted us at the dock. In Bequia, a taxi is any vehicle that can seat six or more passengers, typically a Kei sized van or minibus imported from Japan. These vans tend to be smaller than the vans in the USA. In between fares, most taxi drivers sit while cooling under "The Almond Tree" near the dock in Port Elizabeth.

"Mama" Celena | 6 August 1998
The last time we were together | 6 August 1998

After a 20-minute drive, we arrived at my grandmother's home on the hill near Friendship Bay. Friendship Bay is located on the south side of Bequia with a horseshoe of fine white sand. It is suitable for snorkelling, diving and sailing. The gentle trade winds swept over me. It was great to be home.

I spent most of that week hanging out with my grandmother. Bhavna and I took vigorous hikes to the ancestral home near the mid-section of Monkey Hill. I followed my grandmother around as she tended to her chickens and goats. It was like old times. It's always windy at the top of the hill.

The Friendship Bay House | 6 August 1998
The Friendship Bay House | 6 August 1998

I'm not sure if it was the next day or later that week, but two of Mom's cousins had spent several hours crossing the Caribbean Sea in a speed boat from Grenada (or maybe it was Carriacou) to dive for lobster near Petit Nevis. Carriacou is 60 kilometres (37 miles) from Bequia. I think my ass would be in pain. The next day, Mom's cousins took us to Petit Nevis, a private island my Mom and her family own.

Bhavna enjoyed the cool breezes of the Trade Winds while we hiked around Petit Nevis island. I showed Bhavna where the whalers pulled ashore captured whales for slaughter. She didn't like learning about this part of her family history. I explained that all the family whalers had retired and were focused on nature conservation efforts.

The Friendship Bay House | 6 August 1998
The Friendship Bay House | 6 August 1998

Mom's cousins were successful with their lobster dive, and later that night, I dined on fresh lobster meat while Mom's cousins regaled us with tales of their recent adventures.

Later that week, we visited my great uncle, Athneal Ollivierre (my grandfather's brother), at his home, a part of which is a whaling museum. When I was a lad, Athneal was the most heralded of the Yankee-style whalers in Bequia. He died several years ago, and though my family is no longer involved in whaling, the other whalers have continued the tradition.

Sometime during the week, Bhavna and I visited Spring. Spring Bay is on the Eastern side of the island. It is the quieter and more remote Atlantic side of Bequia, where you will find a few rental villas, former sugar plantations and nothing else apart from the spectacular scenery.

The Friendship Bay House | 6 August 1998
The Friendship Bay House | 6 August 1998

When I was a child living a the Bequia bank house (atop the bank), Mom’s brother, Uncle Errol, would go out crabbing near the northern end of Bequia in an area known as Spring Bay. Spring Bay is on the Eastern side of the island. This is the quieter and more remote Atlantic side of Bequia, where one will find former sugar plantations and palm tree-lined scenery. My mom would wake me up just before dusk, make sure I had some breakfast (bakes and saltfish), and get me up into the rear of my uncle’s Land Rover, the back already filled with other people and kids. We would spend the morning chasing crabs in the mangrove at Spring Bay, stuffing them into large "coco sacks" made of coconut coir. Later in the morning, after we returned to the bank house, Mom would spend the morning cooking up crab. I enjoyed those moments, stuffing my face with delicious crab meat.

View of Friendship Bay | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
View of Friendship Bay from Monkey Hill | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
The old outdoor shower | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Moving the goat at Monkey Hill | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Petit Nevis in the distance | 5 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Getting ready to go lobster diving on Petit Nevis | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Petit Nevis in the distance | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Petit Nevis | 5 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Petit Nevis is a private island | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Petit Nevis | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Bhavna enjoyed Petit Nevis | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Visiting Uncle Athneal | 5 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200
Bhavna enjoying the beaches at Spring | 6 August 1998 | Fujicolor Nexia Smart APS ISO 200