Swampy.

It wasn't like this. It was actually a pretty serene daytrip out of New Orleans to the Pearl River Wildlife Management Area, otherwise known as the Honey Island Swamp. We picked up some cafe au lait (LSB) and coffee with chicory (me), and boarded the tour bus in front of our hotel. The bus drove through the still devastated 9th Ward and over Lake Ponchartrain, rows of shotgun houses in various states of disrepair eventually giving way to an immense expanse of fresh and brackish water on either side.

Our bus driver showed us where flooding from Hurricane Katrina had washed a boat into the brush. The boat was never reclaimed by its owner, but it was quickly being reclaimed by nature--becoming less visable with the passing of time. Things grow quickly down here.

A few miles from the Mississippi border, we were dropped off near the riverbank. We boarded a flat-bottomed boat with about 15 people and set off down the river and into the swamp.

There a river under all of that green

Though it was sunny and well over 70 degrees, it was winter in Southern Louisiana, and Captain Mike told us that most of the larger alligators were hibernating (LSB sighed longingly at the thought of hibernating through the winter months), while the smaller ones tended tough out the cold. He also told us we were Yankees and considered it some kind of punishment to have Yankees on his boat. He warmed up to us once he discovered we had only been in town for a couple of days and had already eaten nearly ever Louisiana delicacy imaginable--more than everyone else on the boat combined.

One of the tough little critters

We spent close to two-hours in the peaceful swamp, motoring through cypress trees draped with spanish moss and slowly passing egrets, herons, turtles of various shapes and sizes, and alligators relaxing on logs. Captain Mike pointed out where Katrina had changed the geography of the river and swept a poorly built fishing camp way down stream, while the well-built one next door held fast. Much to LSB's dismay, we did not see any nutria.

Did you hear something? Could it be...

We were deep in the swamp, when a dark shape emerged from the cypress trees. For a split second, he/it looked at me with terrifying bloodshot eyes. LSB screamed and he disappeared into the dark green nothingness...