Warm air, heavy with the scent of jasmine, wrapped around me as I entered the courtyard. It had only been four days but during that short time so much had changed.
The wall of jasmine was the most obvious change as its delicious smell mixed with gardenia created a mood-altering experience through scent. And as much as I wanted to explore, communion with the river came first.
Layers of humid air hung heavy over the water as my board sliced through the mirror-slick surface. My body longed for movement after traveling and sitting so much over the long weekend. I amped up the pace and had a great workout, during which I discovered the osprey babies I have been monitoring had hatched. Mama Osprey was feeding them as I paddled under their nest atop the high pole. This morning my river prayers were of thanksgiving for these new lives.
Upon returning home, I walked out to my garden and saw baby jalapeño peppers, baby tomatoes, and baby satsumas hanging green and full of potential. Growth was the theme of return to my beloved home.
After communing with my plant friends I turned on my favorite classical music in the speakers outside and glided around the courtyard greeting the beauty exploding everywhere. Such life!
The grandmother oak tree in the center stood watching and when I finished, she called to me. I laid my hands on her rough bark and felt her strength as I offered up a prayer of gratitude for the opportunity to celebrate the day with a morning courtyard dance.
The cows were still asleep as I crept out to the fence to capture the mist of the gathering light. Being barely aware myself, there really weren’t words or thoughts in my mind….just the undeniable feeling of gratitude.
My manfrotto tripod has allowed me to capture images in low light situations as well as images of myself when there’s nobody around to squeeze the shutter and I want to remember that I WAS HERE! In Cornwall, Great Britain
My old Manfrotto tripod has been with me in mountain streams, in the Gulf of Mexico, to Bonaire, the Pacific Northwest, Mexico, in Mobile Bay, Cornwall, Glastonbury….and places in between. During my travels it has supported my camera in low light situations and thus supported the work I do.
Sunset at Gulf of Mexico…the salt water and quartz sand just about finished my poor Manfrotto off….(sigh)
Last summer nearly destroyed my work-horse tripod. I was using it in the Gulf taking photographs of the sunset. Sand and salt water got into every crevice until the legs sounded like a pepper grinder with glass in it when I attempted to adjust them. I took it apart after rinsing it and cleaned it but it has given notice that its days are numbered. Too much irritation from those pesky granules of white quartz sand. One too many trips in checked luggage handled by gorillas who work in the baggage handling black hole of airports (remember those commercials?).
So after much gnashing of teeth I have invested in a Really Right Stuff ball head carbon fiber tripod. Or I have ordered it. New support system on the way! The thing about these tripods is they are the best support you can purchase for cameras….or so they claim. Strong, durable, made in the USA! And with their support, the Nikon D 800 can almost turn flips panning to get those shots I’ve never been able to get before…just because of the incredible support provided.
A good support system allows a photographer to capture images that she can be in…where she doesn’t want to forget the company or the place. This was taken at Observatory Beach on the western peninsula of Washington
Support. Isn’t it amazing to receive. The definition of support includes words like sustain, hold up, bear, serve as foundation for, maintain by supplying necessities. Throughout my life there have been definite supporters–believers in my work, my path. Yes…they have even believed in me when I haven’t. When I doubted.
My mother is such a support…a “tripod” in my life that has witnessed my first breath and lived through my cave diving, solo travel abroad and other exploits that have pushed her fear buttons. I really appreciate her. (And no mom, I don’t think of you as the old Manfrotto…smile).
There have been many others as well. And maybe there are taboos on writing about a former husband but I’ve never been one to follow rules. The support that Ray gave me throughout our time together was solid. He was a foundation for helping me gather myself up from a time, many years ago, when I had lost nearly everything. From the beginning he believed in what I came to the planet to do, even when I felt smothered in self-doubt. When my first book was published he gave me a framed copy with the words Dreams Do Come True printed beneath the book. I keep it hanging over my desk as a reminder.
Without support, this image wouldn’t have been possible. Ray gazing into the night sky on the Blue Ridge Parkway
While the winds of change blew us apart physically, I know without a doubt that his support over a decade ago, and throughout our relationship, is what made the difference in my life. That is truly the really right stuff. And I remain deeply grateful.
Stanley and Gracie teach me about relaxing into the present moment
When we are really supposed to learn something it seems as if it continues to come up over and over in our daily lives. Have you ever noticed that? Themes that pop up so often you can’t ignore them?
Of late the idea of living in the present moment has been bombarding me from every direction. My meditations are filled with this encouragement. While I am in nature or performing everyday tasks like folding clothes, cleaning the cat box or washing dishes, I feel an inner nudge to stay anchored in the here and now.
Azaleas
This way of living doesn’t mean we neglect the ‘future’ by being irresponsible; far from that, it really helps us embrace the fullness of each day without getting stuck in worry and anxiety. We are then able to create a clear path for the future as we sweep away that which keeps us tied to the past.
It could be, at first glance, viewed as a cliche. But be assured there is absolutely nothing trite or cliche about it. In fact, being fully present is one of the deepest spiritual practices I have ever experienced. And it takes a lot of practice. But I finally feel the joy of choosing to be present with whatever is happening. Even if it’s deep emotional pain…choosing to stay with it, to breathe through it, I find the way to the other side of it.
Sunset over Gulf of Mexico at Fort Morgan Beach
Without hesitation I admit that nature is what most calls me to be present. Beyond seeing flowers, the Gulf, wildlife superficially, I look deeper and connect with my breath. Stopping to smell the azaleas, I inhale their sweetness and take in the pink color and exhaling I feel gratitude. Gazing out over the Gulf of Mexico I inhale the beauty of light dancing on the surface, blue-green color, pelicans diving, fish splashing….and I exhale gratitude.
This simple practice helps me stay in this beautiful present. I long to see past appearances and connect to the essence of life that constantly surrounds me. Life is only found in the moment. It is right here. When we are focused on the past or future we actually miss living our lives.
The past two days have been a crash course in how to be a pelican. I’ve learned how to preen using the oil gland at my tail to waterproof my feathers. I’ve noticed that I must pay careful attention to oiling and smoothing my many long feathers.
Popping my bill can be used as an aggressive kind of communication, to let others know I’m unhappy with their behavior and as a demonstration of contentment just before settling in for a little nap.
Down the hatch…head first please!
Fish have to be swallowed head first. If a fish is too big to eat I’ll show my displeasure by stepping on the head of said fish as I plop across the pier deck. If a fish gets stuck in my pouch I stretch my neck down and then up and shake my head. And I might have to do this while running from greedy pelicans who want to steal my treasured handout.
Sunning after dining
Nothing is more relaxing and pleasurable than snoozing in the sun, on a chilly, windy day, after my belly is full.
Check out my awesome diving eyelid…
I have more than one set of eyelids and its fun to freak humans out by closing my diving eyelid.
Shit is not particularly offensive to me, especially pelican poop-shit but I really don’t like human shit like plastic and garbage, monofilament line and fish hooks carelessly left on the pier and beach.
Grooming
As a pelican initiate, the past two days have taught me that some humans are kind and gentle, while others are aggressive and mean-spirited to my kind and get upset when we congregate in places where they feed us. Imagine that….angry at our poopy mess when they feed us the left-overs from their fish-cleaning. That seems crazy but unfortunately fits human unpredictability. Illogical beings, these humans.
My life as a pelican….
Over the past two days in pelican training I mostly learned to be present, in the moment. What happened before is irrelevant, what happens tomorrow not worth the worry…but now. NOW! This is the moment where joy and peace exists.
Warm air, heavy with the scent of jasmine, wrapped around me as I entered the courtyard. It had only been four days but during that short time so much had changed.
Layers of humid air hung heavy over the water as my board sliced through the mirror-slick surface. My body longed for movement after traveling and sitting so much over the long weekend. I amped up the pace and had a great workout, during which I discovered the osprey babies I have been monitoring had hatched. Mama Osprey was feeding them as I paddled under their nest atop the high pole. This morning my river prayers were of thanksgiving for these new lives.
The grandmother oak tree in the center stood watching and when I finished, she called to me. I laid my hands on her rough bark and felt her strength as I offered up a prayer of gratitude for the opportunity to celebrate the day with a morning courtyard dance.
