Nature Photography Archives

Angels Among Us

By Simone Lipscomb | January 3, 2014

Over 28 years ago I was sitting in Centennial Park in Nashville, Tennessee. Going through a major upheaval in my life caused me to seek guidance from a therapist and I was using the before-session time to sit quietly and collect my thoughts. During that time in my life I was awakening to my spiritual path and trying to figure out who I was…normal twenty-something angst.

A quiet corner of the park drew me and I sat in a glider. As I watched the trees and squirrels and people, I noticed what appeared to be a homeless man walking with strong intention from the far corner of the park. I was a bit uneasy as I was alone and he seemed to be heading straight for me.

Sure enough his long, purposeful strides brought him directly in front of me where he stopped and held out his hand, as if to shake mine. Without knowing what else to do I simply held out my hand and shook his. He simply said, “My name is John.”

When our hands touched and he spoke, it was as if my heart and mind expanded. I felt as if everything changed in that moment. It felt like an electrical jolt awakened me.

I believe John was an angel in human form. He disappeared after shaking my hand with the same purposeful walk. But my life was never the same.

Yesterday as I was leaving the Starbucks in Lake City, Florida I noticed a man with a heavy beard, cammo jacket, rough skin and very sad eyes drinking a cup of coffee. I paused, made eye contact, smiled and nodded. When I stepped outside I noticed his beautiful dog sitting next to his pack and bedroll. Alert and watchful, he observed me cautiously as I said hello.

I got to my car and felt my heart open and tears began to pour down my face. First, I felt tremendous gratitude for my many blessings…friends, family, home, car, food, and lots of fun toys for scuba, SUP boarding, cycling, photography. All of this abundance for which gratitude and humility bubbled up within me. Then the tears intensified as I wept for people that are alone or lonely or in pain. And I thought about how humans are so disconnected and how each day we have opportunities to make a difference in other’s lives.

It was New Year’s Day and so I was already pondering changes I would like to make in my life during the upcoming year. The weekend had given me much to ponder as I trained in a new form of scuba and cave diving. Challenges always bring up my ‘stuff.’

My instructor and I connected through email after I shared a blog entry I wrote about my experience and through her reply I had a major self-realization: I have consistently felt the need to be strong, to not show weakness. For decades I’ve put an intense effort into being strong. I did this from the time I was a small child riding a tricycle. Always independent and capable, refusing to ask for help. After over 50 years of this, I’m tired.

Nobody asked me to be strong or fiercely independent and it has served me well in much of my life. But a hard edge developed and I felt protected and guarded…not always, but much of the time.

Tears flowed as I read my instructors beautiful comments. I realized how much I’ve had to demonstrate strength and power to be accepted in relationships…or at least that was my perception. I never knew those scars were present until her kind words found their way to me.

When I greeted the man in Starbucks, when our eyes met, I was reminded that an open heart and mind is what I want to offer the world this year. As I drove, I pondered the entire weekend and resolved to bring all of who I am into the world. Refusing to hold back parts of myself but to joyfully express love and compassion, to allow myself to be vulnerable.

I’m not sure how angels work among us but I believe they do. When we drop the walls of fear erected to protect ourselves, we begin to know them, to learn from them. And can then pass along the love given to us.

To Listen, To Connect….To Love

By Simone Lipscomb | December 2, 2013

It was below freezing when I arrived at the farm. Frost dusted delicate tendrils of dried wildflowers in open fields and glistened in the early-morning light. Everything it touched was transformed with crystalline beauty.

Many years ago I stopped bringing live trees into my home for Christmas. Instead I purchased a fake tree manufactured in China….made of plastic. Three years ago I made the decision to support local tree farmers and remove the toxic tree from my life. I realized that trees raised on farms support local farmers and can be recycled. I also thought that when harvested and put in a place of honor, they are fulfilling their destiny. But being a sensitive soul I have to harvest consciously–with appreciation and love….with tenderness.

Weeks ago I planned the excursion to Boyd Mountain Tree Farm in Waynesville, North Carolina. I would be visiting my friends in Asheville over Thanksgiving so the fraser fir farm would be on my way home. When I made the decision to invite a living tree into my home, it was Boyd Mountain that called me. I was living in Asheville at the time so it was an easy morning’s outing then. The lovely energy of the land as well as the family and staff that cares for the trees stayed in my mind so I was excited to visit once more.

Last year I went to a local tree farm near my home in coastal Alabama but found out, the morning after bringing the Leyland Cypress into my home, that I was allergic to it and had to drag it, fully decorated, out the French doors on to the screened porch where it remained over the holidays. It graced my courtyard with beauty but I missed the closeness of it.

I remember vividly the smell of fraser firs when I would drive up to Mount Mitchell or other high elevations along the Blue Ridge Parkway for sunrise photography excursions. The intoxicating aroma was amazing and I felt changed, altered from it. Scents can do that and each of us has special ones that trigger delightful memories. For me, the smell takes me back to North Carolina and I see myself standing on a high ridge overlooking mountains with fog-filled valleys. The air is crisp and I feel as if I have wings that are strong and can carry me anywhere life calls me to go.

Many emotions filled me on the frosty walk up the mountain at the tree farm. Early morning sunlight filtered through dark green branches, some still dusted with snow. The beauty touched me deeply. I felt intense gratitude for the trees and those who care for them. The frozen earth, hard beneath my boots, seemed to pull me up and up as I was drawn further into the lush limbs that reached out to brush me as I walked past.

Rather than look for a ‘perfect’ tree I simply opened my heart and listened. Letting my mind quieten, I was guided to a snow-covered tree and knew it was the one when tears began to trickle down my face. I didn’t choose the tree, it chose me. I felt the connection strongly.

I gently touched its soft, snow-covered needles and offered gratitude and a blessing for the sacrifice it was making. But very clearly I heard in my mind that fulfilling a destiny requires a sacrifice. Later I pondered the idea and realized we sacrifice our ego, a direction we were headed, a relationship, a place of residence, a job, or any number of ‘things’ as we move through life, honoring our path.

Perhaps Christmas trees have a sense of their purpose as they grow in long rows hugging the mountain. Maybe they feel the joyful emotions of children and adults who weave trails across the slope. I wonder if they know something special awaits. Do they swoon a bit after being cut and then awaken later to find something similar to the stars of heaven resting on their branches, sometimes in bright colors. And maybe then, on some level of tree consciousness, they recognize the fulfillment of their destiny as they stand as the focal point of joy and love in their chosen home.

When we open ourselves fully to life, we cannot help but fulfill our ever-unfolding destiny. Perhaps it isn’t one, final event that gives evidence of success in life but each step along the way, each opportunity we take to open our hearts to listen, to connect….to love.

Some facts about farm-grown Christmas trees:

-They are grown on American family farms and make an important economic contribution to many rural communities.

-One acre of Christmas trees provides the daily oxygen requirement for 18 people. There are 500,000 acres of Christmas trees grown in the U.S. which collectively provide oxygen for 9 million people each day. Young, fast-growing trees release more oxygen than mature forest trees.

-For every tree harvested, another one is planted to ensure a steady supply.

-Christmas tree farms support wildlife such as turkey, quail, songbirds, rabbits and deer.

-Christmas trees are an all-American renewable, recyclable resource. They can be chipped for mulch and used for building dunes at beaches.

Mountains and Friends

By Simone Lipscomb | November 27, 2013

It has been over 19 months since I moved from the mountain in the Riceville Valley area near Asheville, North Carolina. Today I returned. The mountains snuck up on me as it was foggy and pouring rain as I wound my way up through the North Georgia Mountains. Rather than the usual distant view of the mountains, that always makes my heart light up and teases me with the majesty to come, I found myself suddenly surrounded by peaks and thrust into the beauty of mountain energy.

Living in Asheville was a wonderful experience and a dream come true for me. My creativity was unlocked here and connections with others boosted my work…my friend Jen and I used to take wild day trips to the Smoky Mountains and immerse ourselves in the beauty of nature while practicing our art of photography. I met her on the mountain.

The owner of the company that published my first book lived a couple houses down the mountain from me. She helped me learn about the business and taught me the art of editing. Other mountain neighbors became friends as we connected through this magical place that draws so many wonderful people.

As I got closer to Asheville this afternoon I became anxious. I wasn’t sure how to return gracefully to a place I deeply loved and left. How does a person love a place so fully and leave it? For me it was a call back to big water and coastal life that I had been away from for twenty years. So the move south was a good one but I was left with a heart full of love for the mountain and friends that became family.

The time spent in my new coastal home has been focused on healing my life. That opportunity came about due to a relationship that ended…the one I thought would be the forever one. Coming back to the mountain meant facing possible emotions of sadness and grief. I have worked so hard to heal my heart I was fearful that I’d slide back into the darkness from which I had freed myself. Nineteen months of deep, inner work were about to be tested.

As I ate at Doc Chey’s, my favorite Asheville restaurant, I saw in my mind’s eye my former husband and I there but rather than sadness I simply observed and enjoyed the meal. Afterwards I walked to Mast General Store, another Asheville favorite, and walked around hearing the familiar clumping of people’s feet on the wooden floors. Downstairs I touched a shirt made of waffle-type thermal material, the kind that he used to wear, and my breath caught. A moment of sadness arose but was replaced with a sweetness as I remembered his strength and then I simply walked on…letting go even more and feeling the strong sense of wholeness within my being.

*one of my friends on the deck of my former home here*

It continued to rain as I drove east toward my former neighborhood and as my car began the familiar climb up the mountain I felt like a horse being led to something she feared…balking a bit but then I was passing my former cedar home with the wall of windows overlooking the valley and I felt that I had truly moved on and my home wasn’t there any more. There were no ghosts of the past lurking about.

The familiar arms of my friend Phyliss embraced me. Actually it was my buddy Abbey that greeted me, wagging her tail and smiling with excitement. Then the Phyliss hug…and then Bob. These special friends welcomed me with such warmth. All anxiety of facing the past evaporated as I recognized the healing that has come to my life. I realized I had truly come home to myself.

Later this evening we drove back down the mountain and dined with other dear friends. Laleah and Bill provided a wonderful evening where the conversation was rich and varied with deep sharing and multiple explosions of laughter.

the winter that helped me decide to head back to the tropics.... — *the winter that helped me decide to head back to the tropics….*

And the mountain…let me say how incredible it is to be on the mountain again. This place nurtured my soul and helped me open to the creative spirit. It was here that I felt my wings expand and carry me into the heavens where I learned that flight takes only surrender to the forces that are ready to lift us all to our potential.

As I reflect and write I sit snuggled under blankets as the wind howls in the rainy, cold night. The weather forecast calls for snow and with the excitement of a child I realize that I have come full circle in my life and am ready for the next flight on which these wings will carry me. What a blessing to be able to return to this family of friends and a mountain of magic and wonder. My heart is filled with gratitude as I count the many blessings that continue to fill my life from the coast to the mountains.

Shadows on the Pavement

By Simone Lipscomb | November 21, 2013

Another beautiful November day in Coastal Alabama found me on the Backcountry Trail in Gulf State Park. Riding my bike through beautiful pine and live oak forests, I found myself dodging shadows of dragonflies. The insects almost bounced off my sunglasses or helmet as they darted around me but they were not easy to see. Their shadows, however, were quite obvious.

Beautiful, black outlines of these magnificent creatures flitted and danced all over the pavement as I attempted to avoid them. Finally I realized it wasn’t the shadows I needed to avoid and so I started watching for the less obvious ‘real’ thing. It made me think of how much energy we use trying to avoid our own, inner shadows. And for what purpose?

Our internal shadows cannot harm us and serve only to show us the reflection of the real issues in our lives. When we see shadows within they are simply gateways pointing to something that needs our attention.

Traditional wisdom speaks of dragonflies as teaching us the power of light. According to Ted Andrews, they remind us that we are light and can reflect the light in powerful ways. “Let there be light is the divine prompting to use the creative imagination as a force within your life.” We can allow ourselves to be channels of light and to let it illuminate the shadows within which serve to teach us about ourselves.

As I inhaled the cool, salty air and passed through patterns of sun and shade I pedaled with a sense of freedom. I felt appreciation for such a lovely place in which to pedal and for my lovely insect companions that brought a sense of joy through creating shadows on the pavement.

Eagles, Sandhill Cranes….Abundant Beauty

By Simone Lipscomb | October 26, 2013

It was a most glorious day here along the Alabama Gulf Coast. Sun was abundant and the temperature may have reached 70 degrees. This is my favorite time of year here and makes up for those humid, 90 degree summer days.

After an early morning Pure Barre workout followed by hedge clipping from a ten foot ladder, I wasn’t sure about SUP boarding today but even after the yard work and intense workout, I simply couldn’t miss some river time.

I hadn’t planned to paddle hard given that I felt my workout needs were met for the day, but the wind–blowing upriver–caused me to dig deep from the beginning and so I resigned myself to finishing the day with another intense workout.

Just past the bridge an osprey sat silhouetted in a tall pine tree. At the corner before Devil’s Hole, two brown pelicans floated along the surface. Even though I gave them a wide berth they flew off a bit grumpily. As I paddled past the beach at Devil’s Hole, the tree with the heron nest caught my eye as a huge bird moved. The juvenile bald eagle from two days ago was still hanging around. Sweet! This was exciting. Perhaps he or she will be making the river home.

Downriver I paddled, digging against the wind but not complaining. Pelicans were floating and fishing on both sides of the river as it widened. When I got to Bemis Bay an abundance of the large diving birds were feasting on my juvenile mullet friends. I was so caught up in watching the pelicans that I nearly missed two bald eagles flying together, touching, grabbing talons briefly and then flying away. Did I just see that? I was in nature-rapture.

Continuing my downriver paddle I came across another bald eagle in solo flight and one more off in the distance. I felt as if I was in a shamanic journey and a new spirit animal was coming to befriend me. I stopped paddling and stood laughing hysterically. What else could I do? It was beyond my ability to take in, to even believe.

Then I looked up, toward the sun, and there was a huge gathering of large birds riding the thermals over the river. No matter how much I paddled, I never got as close as I wanted to. They were very high and gliding air currents in large circles. White wing feathers glistened in the brilliant light and were visible against the blue sky. Sandhill cranes in migration. I have seen this in Florida before but never here.

Could my ability to take-in more beauty expand any more? Then SPLASH! A pelican landed maybe fifteen feet from my board. When I glanced back he was swallowing a fish. Then on a few more minutes and a huge mullet landed less than a board length away from my board after making a big leap.

Great egrets, shining white in their fine feathers, crowned several of the cypress trees as they sat observing the river happenings. I drifted under them on my way back upriver as the breeze gently pushed me.

photo copy 5 — *Pelicans perched at the no wake zone.*

I sit now, reflecting on the abundance of life and extraordinary experiences that happened during my paddle. When I got back to the wide area of the river we call Bemis Bay, I knelt down and watched the two eagles play…or whatever they were doing. Not that many years ago this would not have been possible but thanks to reintroduction efforts, the bald eagle is beginning to thrive here. And come to think of it, so am I.

Thanks for reading. Comment and/or share as you wish. May your day be filled with abundant beauty.