F is for First Landing

First Landing State Park was once called Seashore State Park. Its name was changed to reflect the first landing in the new world made by members of the Virginia Company of London in 1607. The settlers didn't stay here long. They headed up what is today the James River to make a  permanent settlement at Jamestown, grow tobacco and generally eat each other.

For anyone who has braved the endless suburbia and crass commercialism of Virginia Beach, it's a surprise to find this unspoiled wilderness on its northern fringes. I feel the name Seashore sounds more evocative than First Landing but this remains a diverse 2,888-acre place where a short trip down the trails will take you away from the crowds.

I find First Landing therapeutic and packed with vibrant memories at the same time. It's a big enough and wild enough place to lose yourself without having to drive for miles to the mountains. It's an enchanting tapestry of cypress swamps, dunes, inland lagoons and quiet beaches on an inland sound. It's also exotic in places. First Landing is the most northerly place to find the Spanish moss the lines the streets of the old south.

My favorite place is on the Osprey Trail which weaves by a series of secluded beaches on the sound. In recent months, the rainbow swamps of First Landing gained something of a cult following on Instagram. I'm hoping this doesn't have the same impact on the park as the valley in Californa that was mobbed by tourists as soon as a carper of pretty orange poppies appeared.

The social media age has become increasingly rapacious. As soon as we see a beautiful picture, we want a piece of it. Before we know it, the beauty has been swallowed by the maddening crowd. Let's just say one or two other folks had found the cherry blossoms in D.C. before we got there on Saturday.