Coming in from the open Gulf of Mexico, miles before you can even begin to see land, Petit Bois Island, Miss., gives itself away.
There on the horizon, bright and white against a naked blue sky, a plume of light reaches toward the heavens.
The plume is centered over the island and testifies to the power of the subtropical sun, which bounces so fiercely off the miles of white sand that it actually casts a sort of reverse shadow -- this one made of light -- hundreds of feet into the sky.
Each island in the Gulf Islands National Seashore chain casts such a light.
The plume fades as you approach the island, whose eastern edge rises up from the surf as little more than a sand spit, but 2 inches above sea level and barren save for a lone black-legged stilt prospecting in the shallows. In those shallows, dozens of hermit crabs clutch and crawl across one another, stingrays slide by and glittering schools of translucent minnows flash in water less than ankle deep.
Welcome to the barrier islands of Alabama and Mississippi.
Seagrasses dot the islands
The ancient islands have stood sentinel for eons, protecting this part of the coast from pounding gulf waves and hurricanes. The islands also create and preserve the Mississippi Sound, a giant brackish estuary fringed by marshes, dotted with seagrasses and described by federal officials as the most "fertile" part of the Gulf of Mexico.