Nature Photography Archives

Love’s Grooves

By Simone Lipscomb | April 8, 2013

Each morning, as I walk my SUP board to the small river beach, I greet a beautiful, old cedar tree that stands on the bank. Its gnarled trunk is scarred with places where limbs used to be and the deep fissures in the bark invite my fingers to explore them and touch the texture with gentle regard.

This morning after paddling I walked my board up the trail and felt a gentle nudge from the grandmother tree to come back and visit. After settling my board on the grass, I returned and placed my hands on the trunk and looked up. What a massive tree, soaring far into the sky. Usually I see only the section I pass by, rarely stopping to notice the entirety of the tree.

We do that to ourselves and others. We focus on one small part of ourselves…normally some behavior or personality flaw we don’t particularly like…and obsess about that. Or with other humans we see something we don’t like and dismiss the person without taking time to view the whole person and their many good qualities.

If I only looked superficially at the cedar tree I might say it has a lot of scars and bumps and imperfections. But when I step back and gaze at its entirety I see such magnificent beauty and oddly enough, it is the flaws make it beautiful.

In my first book, Sharks On My Fin Tips, I wrote a story about my grandfather and the depth of love’s grooves worn into our hearts by those we love. In taking a moment to visit the tree today I thought of that quote. People, wildlife, oceans, rivers, bays…all the things I have loved in my life have made an impression on me. There may be scars but mostly the memory of interacting with loved ones–people and animals–and wild animals and places has worn beautiful groves into my heart, that will remain forever.

Like the cedar tree’s beauty, our beauty comes not from perfection but from the imperfections we grow through and overcome and the impression love makes on our hearts as we risk opening them to love others.

Of Light and Trees

By Simone Lipscomb | April 2, 2013

Just after six this morning I raised the shade on my window. Heavy mist from the cow pond next door had first rays of light peeking through it and even though I complained, I threw on a jacket and pants, grabbed my camera and tripod and shoved my flip flops on my chilly feet. The cats were in disbelief that I exited the house prior to their feeding, prior to coffee or crossword puzzle or Facebook…I think they thought the world had ended and walked around in confused circles, tails aloft as if flipping me the proverbial cat ‘bird.’

But sunrise doesn’t wait on anyone. Light can’t be asked to pause while I grab coffee. Dawn comes and in order to witness it we must meet it, face to face.

With temperatures in the fifties my toes didn’t complain that much and before long they were forgotten. First light always delights me and nearly as often frustrates me. Trying to get the exact right exposure with extreme light and shadow can be challenging. But what fun, what pleasure standing under live oak trees, their massive branches spreading overhead and surrounding me with their greatness.

New green of the spring illuminated with pre-dawn light nearly caused me to do back-flips. Instead I simply stood and whispered thank-yous.

And it made me remember a visit to Somerset several years ago. I waked before sunrise and strolled to Glastonbury Tor for a dawn visit. I wasn’t disappointed then either.

April Fool?

By Simone Lipscomb | April 2, 2013

I was beginning to think it was a bad April Fool’s joke. I was standing on the beach asking the lifeguard if he knew where the dead dolphin was that had been reported. He didn’t but rode west three miles down the beach on his three wheeler looking….nothing. I called our stranding coordinator and told her the lifeguard reported that someone said there had been a dolphin with rope on its tail…but no dead dolphin materialized. Not sounding good….could we be getting pranked by spring breakers?

A little nudge from my intuition sent me walking east. It was looking pretty hopeless but my intuition nudged me again…ask the fisherman. I did and he said…”Yes, I know exactly where it is. Can’t you smell it?”

simonelipscomb (5) — *Recovered dolphin last week*

Great. And I thought last week’s dolphin carcass was challenging. The bloating was significant and so was the smell. But I was observing a necropsy of a very large, adult male dolphin inside a facility. Some decomposing and a lot of blood…the smell of blood was what wore on my stamina. Tissue samples were taken, counting of teeth, and all the other data that must be collected from a marine mammal death. Hours upon hours of locating, loading, hauling, photographing, and bit-by-bit taking the dolphin apart and taking samples from organs, blood, eyes…a very intensive effort on the part of several people.

Thankfully it wasn't another dead dolphin — *Thankfully it wasn’t an uncounted dead dolphin*

But today, I witnessed another large dolphin…this time in the final stages of decay. The body had been dragged with a rope and there were parts missing….the lower right mandible, the dorsal fin…and even in the ragged state this dolphin was in, I could see where tissue had been removed. Between our coordinator, my on-scene eyes (and nose…significant putrid smell) and another biologist via telephone, we pieced together the story.

This dolphin was found in December, processed by the other biologist and dragged up in the dunes by the resort gardener and buried. It had been recently unearthed by someone or something and the smell created a curiosity in spring break celebrants who reported to the resort management there was a dolphin on the beach with a rope around it. They forgot to mention the fact that it was nearly skeletal….but that’s okay. We want to be sure it is a dolphin that has already been counted….and not an unreported death.

I had nothing to measure the length of the carcass except my flip flops.... x 9 lengths — *I had nothing to measure the length of the carcass except my flip flops…. x 9 lengths*

Perhaps I did feel like an April Fool….but in a good way I suppose. Not another dolphin death, just a resurrection…of sorts….VERY ‘of sorts.’

Every marine mammal that washes onshore (bays and rivers included…not just the Gulf) and is reported has to be confirmed, measured, tissue samples taken and a lot of paperwork completed by the coordinator at Dauphin Island Sea Lab. She is working to build the volunteer program so our state can do its part in reporting dolphin and manatee mortality and stranding.

It’s not a pleasant job as most ‘strandings’ are really recovery and examination of dead dolphins and manatees. But it is very necessary to gather the data and samples so the reason behind the nearly 900 dolphin deaths since the BP Oil Spill can be determined. Everyone isn’t capable of this kind of ‘death’ work…but there are different jobs you can do to help the Alabama Marine Mammal Stranding Network. It’s one way you can make a difference.

A Wild Heart

By Simone Lipscomb | March 29, 2013

Nothing is more vital than a wild heart. When we lose that, we’ve lost our connection to the untamed, the unruly….the undomesticated part of ourself. And when that happens, the planet suffers.

Yesterday I met Sampson.

I walked into the conference room and high up on a shelf, he perched. At first I wasn’t sure if he was alive as I wasn’t expecting a bobcat to be…ummm…there. But he was very much alive.

Sampson is a northern bobcat that was ‘owned’ by humans who had him declawed and kept as a pet. They ran into problems with his ‘wild’ behaviors and there were permitting issues so he was surrendered to a wildlife rescue group in Ft. Walton Beach who now provide a home for him. He doesn’t like to be outdoors but rather lives in the administrative part of their building.

*Stanley Kubrick, my orange tabby companion…can’t you see the*

resemblance When I looked into this beautiful bobcat’s eyes I immediately saw my orange cat Stanley reflected back through the thread of wildness that remains very present in Sampson. Only it was like Stanley with his superhero powers turned up to full force.

There was no where to hide from his searching eyes. When they locked with mine I understood that his wild wisdom is still intact even though he lives indoors. It was a bit unnerving to have my own wildness, my own worthiness to be evaluated. It was as if I was exposed, open to his scrutiny with no tree or rock or pretense to hide behind. He nailed me.

Sampson allowed me to photograph his greatness and then came down to my level and allowed me to stroke him and ‘love’ him. I was being accepted into his clan. And when I sat at the conference table, he jumped up and walked to me and head-butted or bunted my forehead when I lowered my head to his. Cats (domestic and wild) have facial pheromones that they deposit on other cats, people, objects as a way to mark something as safe. According to one vet, it is like leaving a signal of comfort and safety….trusting the person or environment.

As I reflect back on my interaction with this amazing animal I realize how grateful I am. To be accepted as a trustworthy friend, or a person of comfort and safety to a wild creature (especially one that has been removed from his natural environment by humans and ‘used’ as a pet) is a gift to me. Given the amount of damage humans do to wild animals and wild places, to find acceptance such as this makes my heart glad…and happy.

What is needed on our part to find greater acceptance from wild hearts of the world? What must we do to find ourselves worthy to be accepted by the clan of wild beings that we, in the greater sense, have abandoned? How can we maintain our wildness, like Sampson, even when living in environments that can seem far away from wilderness?

Whether a bobcat–ripped from his natural home as a baby–or a wild manatee, chooses to bring me into their clan, I am deeply grateful that I am deemed as acceptable, as a trustworthy friend and a human that brings comfort instead of pain and destruction….on some level do they know that I am a champion of their wild hearts?

A Living Shoreline

By Simone Lipscomb | March 28, 2013

On April 6th volunteers working with The Nature Conservancy, The Ocean Foundation, Restore Coastal Alabama, Alabama Coastal Foundation and Mobile Baykeeper will create another living shoreline at Pelican Point at the mouth of Weeks Bay. The area of Pelican Point has experienced significant habitat loss and erosion. This effort is part of a goal to restore 1000 acres of coastal marsh and seagrass.

What an amazing opportunity…restore a place to its original condition. That helps the fish, crustaceans, birds and people who live in and around it.

It made me think about opportunities we have as humans to restore ourselves. As we move through life we experience wounding. Much of this happens in childhood and it’s not necessarily intentional from those who hurt us. It happens. So we develop a story around our wounds and our entire life is choreographed by the story we have created around them. We come to identify almost completely with the wounds instead of who we really are.

For instance, if as a child you are constantly criticized, you might come to the conclusion that you are not good enough. So you weave a myth around this and draw experiences to you that tend to mirror this belief. Or maybe your parents were disappointed that you weren’t a boy…or a girl…or even that you were born. The story you weave could be that you were not wanted so you tell yourself that nobody really wants you for who you really are. Or if your parents divorce or a parent dies you might feel abandoned and carry this very deep storyline throughout your life and consistently ‘create’ situations in relationships where you are abandoned, rejected.

What if we identify our ‘original’ wounds and create a living shoreline within ourselves…we can restore ourselves to wholeness by naming the beliefs that eroded our lives.

With the Living Shoreline Restoration Project they are using over 20,000 blocks to build a reef. The concept is the same for us. We can rebuild our lives by re-writing our personal myth–the story we live by–and in essence change our lives.

What a different life a person could live if he believed he is smart and capable and worthy of love. Or that she is wanted and beautiful. Or that she can have a consistent and dependable relationship and be accepted by her partner. Wouldn’t that be worth the effort?

What if we think of ourselves as a living shoreline in need of repair and build on the beauty within us…that’s always been there. What would your new story be like? What would you use for building material? What is your happily-ever-after?