I told you at the start that the tide is everything out here, so let me help you actually read the water as you go, because once you see it, you'll never un-see it. Look at where the waterline sits against the banks and the mangrove roots. If there's wide, wet, glistening mud and sandflats exposed, and the water's pulled back into shallow sheets and channels — that's low tide, or a falling tide, and that is your moment. All that exposed flat is a buffet: the receding water strands the little fish and crabs and shrimp in puddles and shallows where the birds can simply walk up and grab them. That's why the birds crowd in.
If instead the water's high and lapping right up into the roots, covering all the mud, the birds have less reason to be here — the food's spread out and hidden, and the flats are just open water. If you've hit high tide, don't despair; you'll still see plenty, and the light on the water is lovely. But now you know why some folks rave about this drive and others shrug — half of it is just showing up at the right tide. If you can, plan your visit around it; a tide chart for this area is worth its weight in gold, and the refuge even points you to one. The birds keep the tide's schedule, not the clock's. Read the water, and you'll always know your odds. Roll on.
Photo: Russ · CC BY 2.0








