Gulf of Mexico Archives - Page 3 of 24 -

I Choose Love

By Simone Lipscomb | September 15, 2013

The past week’s meditations have been about connecting with animals…wildlife and domesticated. It has been challenging. Once we determine to be aware of what is happening in our world, we can never go back and forget. I discovered this while documenting the oil spill in 2010.

simonelipscomb (1) — Necropsy of young dolphin whose tail had been entangled in fishing line.

Ignoring news was my way to deal with the multitude of sins humanity commits against the planet. But when the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill occurred, I felt called to action. Ignoring was no longer an option. But it came with a cost. My life was changed and not in a good way. Once the blinders are off, there’s no going back into forgetfulness. No returning to blissful ignorance.

Fishing line discarded with hook...now embedded in sea gull's mouth/throat — Fishing line discarded with hook…now embedded in sea gull’s mouth/throat

So this week of meditating on animals has only served to remind me (as IF I needed reminding) of how humans perpetuate such darkness by our actions. Lack of compassion when killing for food, using fishing practices that harm sea turtles and marine mammals, not recognizing the spark of Spirit within all life….how can we do this and think it’s okay?

Northern Gannet being cleaned of oil in 2010. BP Deepwater Horizon spill.

There are excuses for all behaviors we practice. Haven’t we heard them all? Sacrifice the land to drill for oil with fracking procedures. Pollute the rivers because it’s cheaper. Deafen dolphins, whales and other sea creatures just to test sonar. Is anyone else just fed up? The grief I carry within is so vast, so deep I truly feel paralyzed at times by it. I look in the mirror and am ashamed that I am human…part of a species bent on destruction and selfish greed…profit at any cost.

Joanna Macy teaches us to stay with our grief for it will fuel us to make positive changes. Right now…and for the past several months….grief has simply clobbered me. And I’m not writing to generate sympathy for myself…not at all. But it is time to simply be totally truthful about what it feels like to be a human engaged in the planetary process…at least from my heart and mind.

I’m tired of pretending it will all be okay or things will magically get better. I am weary of humans ignoring responsibilities we have to clean up our messes and to stop doing destructive practices to our planet, each other…wildlife…domestic life.

I am crying out for an end to our closed hearts and an opening to love…to spiritual love that binds us to each other and all life. Living like we have been living is fast becoming an obsolete option. We have seen what living with closed hearts does to each other and the planet…ALL life on the planet. I refuse to live like that any longer. At the risk of standing alone I choose love. I choose an open heart!

I choose love. No matter the consequences. I choose love.

What Magic!

By Simone Lipscomb | August 25, 2013

Today was the last of the 2013 Sea Turtle patrol walks for me. My Sunday morning strolls looking for mother sea turtle tracks and picking up trash are done for this nesting season. And what a beautiful day it was!

Storms were just offshore and provided a glorious display of nature’s power. There is something about a storm out over the Gulf….they key word being ‘out’ as in offshore and not over the beach.

It’s difficult to believe that another nesting season is starting to end. Of course we still have nests that will be hatching throughout September but as far as the females nesting…out team walks will be done at the end of this month.

I enjoy the Sunday morning walks…those sunrise excursions where the elements and I are one. Where wind and sea and sun and clouds affect me so deeply, so powerfully. I will miss this time alone on the shore.

It’s rather amazing how something so simple as a walk along the beach at sunrise can set the intention for the entire week. How it can open a person to the wonder of nature and the wild elements of it..birds, waves, sun, lightning, sand, salt, dolphins, sharks, rays, jellyfish, fish, seaweed, turtles, shells….what magic. What a treasure. May we honor it as such.

Rainbows and Sea Turtle Babies

By Simone Lipscomb | August 24, 2013

The scheduled shift for monitoring the loggerhead sea turtle nest came at the end of a day of coastal storms. I left my professional photography gear in my office and headed to the beach with my iPhone and rain gear. Turns out I brought the wrong gear and left the right gear at home.

Arriving at six o’clock I found the beach glorious. A nice breeze kept biting insects pushed away from the shore and the temperature was perfect. I listened with the stethoscope to the nest of busy hatchlings and heard fifteen second sand cascades with long pauses in between. Nothing soon but probably tonight, I thought.

So another team member and I walked down to the water’s edge and watched the frenzy of fish activity in the waves and I rescued tiny baitfish as they washed on shore. The gulls developed an intense dislike for me but I can’t help it. My heart will always help the underdog. And besides…I sort of know what it feels like to be a fish out of water…at least metaphorically.

As the hour progressed toward sunset the sky suddenly went berserk with color and rainbows. There was one main rainbow, a second and then the clouds began to glow pink. Armed only with my iPhone, I cursed my decision to leave my ‘big’ camera and tripod behind. The beauty of the sky was absolutely breathtaking.

But it was the rainbows that filled my heart with delight and brought such joy that I didn’t try to contain it. I opened my arms to the sky and opened my mind and heart to the beautiful energy of rainbows. Promise. Hope. Light!

As the sky faded I had a strong feeling to check the nest. When I approached the top of it was moving. It appeared as if a baby turtle was swimming in the sand, just beneath the surface. At 7pm I texted the two people who had asked to be notified…our team leader and another couple who live nearby the nest. There was no need to listen with the stethoscope as there was enough light to see the top of the nest moving.

At 8.10pm 84 to 86 (our two counter’s totals) ‘boiled’ out of the nest and went EVERYWHERE! There was no moon due to clouds and too much light on the beach and it was a wild scramble of babies making a mad dash to light. This is the reason Share the Beach was started, those many years ago. Baby sea turtles crawl toward light and with so much coastal development many were crawling into the street, under homes and becoming lost or dead.

Thanks Sherry Sander Parks for taking this photo of me playing under the rainbow!

It was an intense hatching that kept us constantly assisting them find their way to the sea. But finally, the last one crawled into the warm, salty water and we could relax a bit.

Amid more rain this morning and thunder and depressed cats sulking because they hate thunder, I feel joy and gratitude for such an opportunity to receive so many gifts from spending time under rainbows and crawling on the sand with loggerhead hatchlings.

Visit our team’s Facebook page at Laguna Key-Share the Beach.

A Lightness of Being

By Simone Lipscomb | July 21, 2013

Sunday mornings, prior to sunrise, find me traversing an empty beach lot to the dune line. A short climb over ever-growing dunes and a quick walk across flat, sugar-white sand beach and voila! Wrack line. My target for the 1.5 mile search eastward.

I walk toward the rising sun. I’m looking for sea turtle tracks but this time of solitude at sunrise gives me space to be with the ocean, to open myself to the day and what life presents. Sounds great, right?

Today like most all other days I opted to carry my heavy camera, heavy super-wide angle lens and my carbon fiber tripod…not so heavy but after 3 miles it all starts to feel rather burdensome. I can’t help it though. Try as I might to leave the sturdy gear at home, the artist in me wants to see dawn through my lens. The environmentalist in me wants to pick up trash on the walk back. So a heavy trash day, like today, leaves me exhausted.

As I trudged back west picking up trash, the wind was blowing strongly against me. Lots of plastic in various forms littered the beach and so I was constantly bending over while trying to keep tripod and camera cases from falling off my tired shoulders. It was very frustrating….the trash, the soft sand and the heavy gear. I felt so weighed down.

Truthfully though, all of the stuff I was carrying was light compared to the inner burdens that were weighing me down. I struggled with my anger over trashy humans who throw garbage off of fishing boats, with tourists who leave plastic bottles, plastic caps, fireworks, plastic bags, and cigarette butts behind. After a mile and a half of gathering up the wastes humans left behind I felt weighed down with anger, frustration, feelings of hopelessness for our collective future and the health of our planet. And any other heavy emotion lingering about seems to pop up when I am tired. So hello my little friends….good to see you remember me. (Not!) Weary walking, this day. Very weary walking.

I was so exhausted toward the end of my walk I tried to push past trash rather than stop and put it in the already-heavy bag. But I couldn’t. I wanted to weep with fatigue and dehydration yet my love for the planet strengthened me to stop and collect the bits of garbage. I had to deal with it. I don’t want to do this! I’m tired, I silently whined. I wondered how long it would take the ghost crabs and other scavengers to pick my bones clean if I collapsed. And yes, I have a vivid imagination with a flair for the dramatic. Don’t artists always suffer for their work?

In spiritual studies, which are really studies in healing inner wounds, psychic debris and ego-driven living so our highest self can shine forth, I have sometimes wished for amnesia. Once a personality flaw is unearthed and brought to consciousness it won’t go away or get fixed by ignoring it. I thought of this as I picked up plastic garbage from the beach. Try as I might to walk past it I just couldn’t. My commitment to wildlife is to pick up this 1.5 mile stretch of beach every Sunday morning. Like my commitment to personal growth and healing leads me to keep working on myself no matter how tired or weighed down I feel. Oh, happy day. Right?

When I reached my car the feeling of letting everything go was amazing. The struggle had been great this day. Strong wind, soft sand, lots of trash…heavy gear. But the payoff…oh, the payoff. Feeling my heart and mind connect through my art. Knowing that the trash I collected will not harm innocent creatures…hoping that something I do will make a positive difference for the planet…this and singing to the sea gave me an incredible lightness of being.

The struggles? I still think it’s all worth it. Just look at this beautiful planet. Look at the sea!! And if you dare, look into my ever-lightening heart.

Leaping

By Simone Lipscomb | July 16, 2013

I was tired and had already been in my car too long running errands earlier in the day but something pushed me out of my comfy chair in my peaceful home. I grabbed my tripod and camera and only one lens….the glorious little beastie, the Nikon 14-24 2.8.

There wasn’t a lot of color in the sky when I arrived at the beach but soft hues create gentle images so I played around under the pier and then headed east, away from condos and into undeveloped shoreline.

Maybe 500 yards from the pier I came upon a loon. Not a human dressed in black socks and sandals sporting a hawaiian shirt drinking beer and littering cans all over the beach…a real loon. The bird. Specifically a Common Loon.

She was sitting on the lip of the sand, just out of reach of the water. Loons cannot walk because their legs are so far back on their bodies. They are diving birds and spend most of their time in the water, only coming on land for nesting. (This particular one was a juvenile…which I’m still puzzling about since they typically don’t nest here but back to the story).

The bird was alert, appeared uninjured and was tolerant but wary when I slowly approached. There was no blood or indications of any problems except the obvious one–she was not in the water. She just anxiously looked at the water and then back at me. I understand that look of longing and could feel her desire to be back in her element.

It was almost dark and concerned that coyotes would make a meal out of the grounded bird, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Nobody was available to come check on her. But heck, I thought, I used to be the state park naturalist here, I can help this bird. I worked with all kinds of birds here in the 80’s.

The beaks are very sharp but I didn’t want to handle the bird anyway. Like I used to teach scuba students, self-rescue is always best. So I spotted a large piece of styrofoam down the beach and retrieved it. It was very bright white and my loony friend had an intense dislike of it. So much so that as soon as I approached, even very slowly, she decided to make a break for the water…never mind that she really couldn’t walk. With a burst of energy she pushed herself toward an oncoming wave, shot out a trail of poop and was out past the breakers before I could understand what just happened. She rescued herself with a little coaching from me. My guess is that with the rough water she was swept onshore while fishing inside the sand bar.

The last time I saw her she was frolicking (really…I’m NOT kidding) out past the breakers and taking a much-needed saltwater bath.

I suppose we all need a little encouragement to go for what we really long for sometimes. When and why do we take action? My suspicion is the fear of staying stuck becomes greater than the fear of leaping.

To all those awaiting a Universal sign to leap…..maybe today is the day!