Nature Archives - Page 10 of 32 -

The Questions We Ask

By Simone Lipscomb | February 20, 2013

Florida Manatee posing for a candid photograph

Yesterday I watched a news video relating the story of a family that abused a baby manatee. By abuse I mean the dad pulled it out of the water, hugged it, placed his small children on it while it was half out of the water and who knows what other torments. All of this was documented by photographs and posted to the dad’s Facebook page. A Facebook friend turned them in to Florida Fish and Wildlife Commission. The dad was arrested.

It is suspected that the baby manatee was already suffering cold stress from the recent chilly weather so the abusive handling most likely further stressed the calf which could easily lead to its death.

So. what’s the big deal? Manatees are one of the most endangered species in our area. They estimate the population to be around 5000 individuals. Reproduction rate is slow, many are killed and seriously injured each year by boat propellers. These are the biological answers, the scientific answers that support the very strict rules of conduct that are enforced by law enforcement agencies charged with protecting wildlife listed under the Endangered Species Act.

He checked out my dry suit, my fins, my snorkel, my camera...always learning more about humans, these little ones. — He checked out my dry suit, my fins, my snorkel, my camera…always learning more about humans, these little ones.

To fully understand this question one must journey deeper to the ethical and moral foundation of how we treat species other than our own. Manatees are very gentle, curious creatures with friendly dispositions. Given the fact that humans have nearly decimated their populations, they are incredibly trusting of us.

In a recent trip with a group of women to Crystal River, Florida, a juvenile was persistent in forcing an interaction with me. I believe in passive observation only and don’t ‘pet’ them. If they want to nose around my dry suit, play with my camera housing or suck on my hair, I don’t mind. But I don’t encourage the contact by excessive touch. I want them to be wild for their own good.

But this little one refused to leave me alone until I lowered my camera and held my hand out in the water. She swam to my hand and laid her head snugly in my palm and we maintained eye contact. My heart and entire being was open to the connection and it felt as if we crossed space and time where different species gain understanding and trust. After I gently pulled my hand back and swam on, I sobbed into my mask and thought, why do these animals trust us when their near-destruction is at our hands? I felt honored and blessed and as usual, deeply changed from the interaction.

So the story of the recent abuse of a baby made me nearly crazy with grief. The family had no concept of respect for the baby, no understanding that this darling manatee child was such an important link in the recovery of a seriously endangered species. I weep for this and all ignorance with which humans continue to destroy our beautiful planet–ourselves. As a collective it seems we see no connection between ourselves and other species, rivers, oceans….How did we become so separate from nature, from each other?

A dear friend of mine had a wonderful solution. He suggested that the family be ‘sentenced’ to work in a manatee rehabilitation center so they can truly understand the fragility of these gentle beings. Of course! What an amazing idea. For, as he said, we are taught by example. We learn from others. What better way to understand another species than to be taught directly by them. We can truly and profoundly understand another by helping them heal their wounds.

I think they see the reflection in the housing port...they are truly fascinated with cameras — I think they see the reflection in the housing port…they are truly fascinated with cameras

And this idea is applicable with all species, including other humans.

It is time to start asking the right questions and devoting ourselves to the healing of all beings. For that truly is how we learn about their suffering, their challenges. When we learn compassion, seeds of peace are planted. And that can only lead to a better world.

In Training: Learning from the Animals

By Simone Lipscomb | February 19, 2013

Two days of passively observing brown pelicans at very close proximity helped me get through Basic Orientation: Animal Life 101.

The conclusions I’ve drawn thus far? Silent observation and attention to detail give the best learning experiences. Staying in beginner’s mind is the clue.

Shoshin is a concept in Zen Buddhism meaning “beginner’s mind”. It refers to having an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when studying a subject, even if studying at an advanced level. Learning from animals necessitates using the quality of curious mind. Be quiet and observe.

Two experiences during my first ‘classes’ left me completely baffled. One happened at the end of each day’s observations and with each one, I was confronted with very aggressive energy from males. One was middle school age and the other an adult.

Class One: The pelicans had just settled down to nap and had been sunning after a particularly cold night. I was tucked in a corner of the pier with them, sunning on a bench. A group of four kids walked up and one drew his fishing rod like a sword and started trying to hit the dozing birds. It was calm and peaceful one moment and the next erupted into chaotic, mean-spirited energy.

Class Two: I was sitting with the pelicans in the same place–a corner tucked around from a fish-cleaning station. The birds were active in preening, perching, communicating with each other and yes, some were very interested in what the guy was doing with his dead fish. Suddenly a blast of cold water shot out and around the corner, splashing me and soaking the pelicans. But it didn’t stop. It kept coming and blasting the birds in their faces in their corner. They had little opportunity to leave.

I was just trying to catch a nap and then some human started spraying me with cold water

It stopped so I just let it go. Then it started again and this time after it quit I peeked around the corner and asked the guy to please stop spraying so far around the corner as I was getting wet…but more importantly, my camera was getting wet.

He kept spraying and finally blasted a bird perched on the rail for probably 30 seconds in the face and the bird could do nothing but sit there and take it. I yelled at this point: STOP IT!

He finished cleaning his fish and then came around the corner and cursed me for being on the pier. Told me I had no business taking photographs of the birds. That I had no right to stand up for myself or the birds because they shit all over the deck.

I attempted to explain I paid the fee to walk on the pier like he did…it didn’t matter. I also reminded him that I wasn’t feeding the birds and I had seen him toss fish remnants overboard where pelicans promptly flew for their meal. He blasted me with hate and words as he had done the pelicans with yelling and blasts of water.

ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?! I wanted to scream. But finally I just looked at him like he had lost his mind and didn’t say anything. And I continued to breathe and stay as focused as possible.

Today while SUP boarding I thought back to the encounters and pondered the entire lesson the pelicans were teaching me. What I resonated to so perfectly was the simple beauty of every movement, the peaceful quiet of the pelican world. I smiled at their squabbles over gifted fish and enjoyed the soft passes of their wings on my legs or hands as they opened them to fly off or argue over a fish. I haven’t felt that much peace in weeks and it was from letting go of thinking and just being and observing with an open mind.

If I look at the encounters with the two aggressive males from the point of view of a pelican, I notice two things. First, pelicans really don’t take it personally when humans are sometimes mean, abusive, and hateful. Second, they pop their bills a couple times at the offending party and forget about it.

Perhaps I just need to observe behavior that is abusive and angry and mean-spirited and not form judgments. Just notice it and carry on. But it is challenging when it is directed at innocent beings who are doing nothing but showing up for free food. It’s difficult to know how to balance observing passively and taking action.

Spread you wings, let it go — Spread your wings, let it go

How does anger, aggressive behavior and meanness affect me…from the perspective of beginners mind? Really it doesn’t if I don’t take it personally. If I can simply observe and not take that aggression or anger inside of me, it has no affect at all. I can advocate for those who need protection but I don’t have to take the insanity of the offender personally. That would be rather silly.

Perhaps I passed the exam from my first official class. The bonus question? How does a pelican deal with humans who adore them and cherish them? Observe, breathe, go back to preening in the sun.

Attachment to nothing... — Attachment to nothing…

My Life as a Pelican

By Simone Lipscomb | February 18, 2013

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! — 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.

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... — 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.

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.... — 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.

What Would You Do?

By Simone Lipscomb | February 15, 2013

None of us like to think about it but the truth is this: The moment we are born, we begin to die.

Mostly we live our lives without giving ‘it’ much thought. But if we’re faced with the possibility of death, what would we do?

What is important to us? What do we want to do before we leave our body behind and embark on the mysterious journey of whatever comes next? What would be our legacy left behind?

And who would we contact? Who would we reach out to say….I love you?

Such important questions. But facing them isn’t something any of us want to do…not for real anyway.

So what if we chose to face them, without the big “D” facing us but answered as if it was sitting on our shoulder, black hood and sickle at the ready.

My answers, you wonder?

Who is my person? The person knows because I reached out and made contact. It’s not important who it is, but simply that I made contact and shared my feelings.

What I would do? Dive more…spend more time underwater in the place I feel most at home communing with the sea and creatures of the vast ocean.

What else? I would let go of fear and move forward with the strength of a knight to share beauty with the world. I would let go of the grief that has wrapped me like a gray blanket and simply embrace beauty and live within it and express it at every opportunity.

I discovered this week that my greatest fear isn’t death…it is losing beauty. The beauty of our beautiful water planet, of trees, beaches, dolphins, whales, manatees….of clear water, clean air. While the loss and beauty of a lover’s embrace, support and encouragement can be devastating, losing the beauty of nature is ultimately my greatest fear.

Choosing to ask ourselves these questions can free us to live fully and completely and to embrace that which is important to us regardless of the outcome.

Rumi wrote, “Our task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all of the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

Manatee...my heart opens to embrace these darlings — Manatee…my heart opens to embrace these darlings

And Leo Buscaglia said, “Love is always bestowed as a gift freely, willingly and without expectation. We don’t love to be loved. We love to love.”

No matter the destruction wildlife and wild places experience, I choose to love freely–refusing to hold back because I am afraid of them disappearing. No matter that human relationships may not last, I can choose to love because my heart feels love and expect absolutely nothing in return.

It isn’t complicated. It’s quite simple in fact.

I choose love. What will you choose?

Communion

By Simone Lipscomb | January 30, 2013

Curious about the SUP board, the juvenile says hello.

It is no secret to anyone who knows me that my best friends are finned or flippered, feathered or furred. My heart is touched by an encounter with wild dolphins or a gentle nuzzle of a manatee in ways that surpass any human connection. Maybe that’s why men I’ve shared my life with have moved on…never content to come second after my love of wild animals. Connection with all creatures wild is my Communion, a way to rise above the mundane and connect deeper, more fully with beings more evolved than humans. (Personal bias).

Today I received an early-morning call from a friend and she tearfully expressed her love of the woods surrounding her home was about to be logged, destroyed so the landowner could purchase a vehicle for his son. How can you put a price like that on a sacred woodland? When will humans learn that the planet is not a commodity to be pillaged, a land to rape for spoils but rather a sacred cathedral?

The mentality of profit at any cost is not a luxury we can afford any longer.

Joanna Macy’s teachings come to mind. She explains the necessary evolution from a life-taking society to a life-sustaining society. We are in a time of moving from a profit-at-any-cost world to a life-sustaining world. We are in the middle of the dissolution of the old way and are awakening to the reality of the mess we’re in economically, socially, environmentally. And within the mess, within the reality of how we have treated the planet and each other, we find positive change occurring. Many, many people are choosing to act from a place of responsibility, a place of compassion and love. We are waking up to the idea that it is possible to live in balance with respect for all life.

Wildlife reminds me of the connection we have to the whole. The manatees scarred by propellers remind me that humans still have a huge impact on fragile species, that we have done great harm to our planet. And when I see volunteers paddling their kayaks, overseeing interactions with these gentle beings and acting as protectors, hope is refueled.

While snorkeling recently, a juvenile manatee came to me and demanded my attention. My goal is passive observation, in or out of the water, but while filming them, one insisted on connecting face-to-face and drew me out from behind the camera. He swam in front of me, stopped and I felt his gentle spirit guiding me to remove the camera from between us and commune, one wild heart to another. I gently placed my hand aside his face and channeled as much love as I could to him and his kind. And I listened in silence to him.

In those moments we were one with each other. There was no me, no him. In that neutral stillness was birthed understanding. Deep, profound understanding.

As we parted, sobs wracked my body and soul for the trust demonstrated by a species so abused and wounded by humans. The future of this planet is in our hands. That is both frightening and empowering. What will we do to create a better world? Will we do anything?

It can start with daily communion with the natural world. Let it show us our next step each day.