It’s nighttime as we start to drive across the three-mile causeway that connects the southwest coast of Florida to Sanibel Island. We are leaving behind a strip mall-lit sky and heading into a darkness so deep we can’t really make out where we are. Our three kids, ages seven, five and two, are tired from traveling and fill the rental car with their complaints. Turning onto Periwinkle Way, the main drag through Sanibel, we switch off the AC, reduce our speed to the wildlife-friendly limit of 25 miles an hour and roll down the windows. "Wow," I say to my husband, Peter. "It’s dark here."
"And quiet," he replies, quietly.
"I like it," murmurs a dreamy voice from the back seat. Yeah, I think. Me too. But why? What’s out there?