Category: OCEAN

Water Summer

Water Summer

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From the cool, quiet streams of the Smoky Mountains to the salty Gulf Coast, water has been ever-present in my life this season. And this summer is so much more enjoyable than last summer, where I spent weeks breathing the nasty smell of crude oil and walking in hiking boots on the beaches to avoid oiled shoreline. This year I have even fully submerged into Week’s Bay, Magnolia River, Perdido Bay, the Gulf of Mexico, bodies of water that I refused to touch last year much less put my body into.

In June I stayed with my friends Hans and Renee in Pensacola and paddled a few times–Perdido Bay, Johnson Beach, Fort Pickens. It felt weird to be on the water again, embracing the salty liquid of the Gulf, but it was time. I needed to connect with the Gulf Coast in a positive way so I could continue to heal the sadness and grief that originated with the devastation to the environment and communities along the coast. But I still wondered how much oil was really left in the water and what it was doing to the marine life and humans who interacted with it.

Even with doubts, I completely submerged myself in fun and celebration of this place of beauty. I saw flounder, rays, all kinds of fish and more jellyfish than I remember ever seeing (which made me especially careful to not fall off my board). I also paddled Mobile Bay, Week’s Bay and Magnolia River. And each one brought a sense of relief and gratitude to my weary spirit.

But the Gulf Coast isn’t the only place where I have submerged into water. I visited Lake Michigan, specifically Charlevoix and Mackinac Island. The cool, crystal-clear water of northern Lake Michigan was so delightful, so beautiful, so absolutely amazing that I vowed if the winter’s were not so extreme, I’d move there. Alas, I am a tropical gal and find Asheville winters pushing me to the brink of moving to a warm coast with salt water.

The water immersion this summer has been centered around paddle boarding. It has enriched my life and calmed my mind, as well as toned my body. And even though all this may sound corny, it really has positively changed my life. Did I really miss water that much? Has being land-locked for 16 years attributed to a sort of atrophy of my gills?

And another wonderful result of paddle boarding? I got to introduce it to my daughter and her boyfriend on Lake Charlevoix. What could be better than family, friends, wildlife, clean water and the sunshine smiling on you? I am grateful to have something that’s so simple, make such a huge impact on my life. What is impacting you in a positive ways these days?

To read about my adventures and learn about the Gulf Oil Spill visit my web site, Turtle Island Adventures.com, and check out my books. If you’ve read one (or more) I invite you to comment here.

Salt Water and Blue Sky–Balance

Salt Water and Blue Sky–Balance

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This past week I set an intention of reconnecting with the Gulf Coast by seeking the positive, the good, the beauty here. For over a year I regularly visited seven beaches that had been affected by the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill. I needed to turn a corner in my work and embrace the beauty of the coast and the amazing ability of nature to recover from such a devastating environmental disaster.

I needed to shift my perspective and look for the positive signs of recovery while being mindful of the ongoing struggle some areas, animals and people still face on a daily basis. Last year I had little hope any marine animals, sea creatures or birdlife around the area would survive. To date, 22 sea turtle nests have been documented on Alabama beaches. Today I witnessed many osprey with young on their nests and other shorebirds that successfully raised chicks this year. In fact, I saw a baby tern hopping on the sand with his parents at Gulf Islands National Seashore and the sight of it brought back powerful memories for me.

Last year at this time I was sitting on the beach taking a break from photographing oiled beaches and saw this baby tern and baby. It gave me hope amidst much destruction. Today I was reminded, by another baby tern, that life indeed is making a tremendous effort to survive the toxic environment created by last year’s oil spill.

Over the past week I have spent hours on the water–paddling, drifting, offering prayers of gratitude for the magnificent beauty of the water, its creatures, the clear sky, the white sand. Last year I was afraid to touch the water, much less paddle out and allow it to wash over me. This shift in perspective has helped me balance grief and sadness and embrace the elements that make this area so special, so amazing.

It’s easy to get stuck in the negative spin and only see the bad. Or sometimes turn our attention away from ‘bad’ things happening to the planet and pretend they are not occurring. We must, however, find a way to be aware of what is happening environmentally, and keep a balanced perspective by looking at both the triumphs and challenges our Earth faces, that we face.

One way we can achieve this balance is by connecting with nature on a regular basis and allowing it to share the wisdom it has to impart.

Toward an Open Dialogue

Toward an Open Dialogue

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I sat in my car listening to rain pound the windows and roof. I was overlooking the Gulf of Mexico where just last year oil coated the beaches. I reached over and picked up the children’s book that was birthed from the year’s work at the beaches. I held it in my hands, closed my eyes and said a silent thank-you to the Gulf and Her ecosystems and dedicated The Gulf Oil Spill Story to Her.

I slowly opened the cover and started reading the story aloud to the Gulf. The rhyming poem echoed through my heart and mind as I sent it out into the muggy, coastal air. With each image I remembered the exact place where the illustration and story lines were inspired. As I read I began to feel a mixture of grief and love and passion for this place to which I am deeply connected. Hours after my birth I breathed the salt air of this beautiful coast. And today, as a thank-you for the life I was graced with, I gifted Her with this kid’s book in the hope that future generations will be better caretakers than my generation.

Yesterday a guy that has worked for an oil company for over twenty years looked through the book. It was a surreal experience. While the story is not anti-oil, it does question the wisdom of choices we make regarding energy and drilling. He shared his ideas about the spill and so the book opened a dialogue between us.

My niece read the book and loved it. My mom especially liked the checklist at the end of the story that encourages families to be daily environmental stewards. A friend of mine sat mesmerized by the illustrations while another friend had tears come as she read it. All of these different reactions and yet the one common thread is the story opens dialogues between people. I can think of no more important intention of any project.

It’s easy to get discouraged with so many conflicting ideas about renewable energy, drilling, politics, religion, climate change…. But when we take the time to listen to other’s points of view without judgment, movement toward resolution can occur. Common ground can be found if we are willing to stand with one another, instead of against each other.

Life After the Spill

Life After the Spill

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A week ago I led a small group experience in Asheville. I showed an audio visual presentation of images from the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill last summer and then we did a meditation visualizing the Earth healing from this and other man-made disasters. Next I showed beautiful images of nature from many places in the world and we did a gratitude meditation. During this time I felt the strong connection humans have with the planet and a flow of gratitude from the Earth as we sat in silence, in stillness cultivating appreciation and love.

Today, as I was paddling my SUP board on Mobile Bay dolphins swam under the board, flocks of pelicans flew overhead, and small mullet splashed in front of me. What a different experience from a year ago.

Last June 13 I was walking the beaches documenting oil washing ashore in Alabama and grieving the unfolding disaster, still spewing unknown amounts of crude into the Gulf of Mexico. As I walked the shores I expected few shore birds and little marine life to survive. I felt as if I was attending a wake each time I visited the beach. And certainly I was for the thousands of birds, marine mammals, sea turtles and fish that died. And for the 11 men who died. It was so devastating to witness this tragedy. Each blog post felt like a eulogy.

But today, there is life on Mobile Bay–swimming under the water, flying over it, and paddling on the surface. Gratitude abounds within me as I acknowledge these signs of recovery.

Yet I know every place on the Gulf Coast is not so fortunate. Some areas are still experiencing heavy oiling in marshes. There are still large tar balls washing ashore and in the local Mobile newspaper, I read an article stating that local officials know there are large oil mats on the bottom just offshore of some major tourist beaches. They are trying to figure out how to remove the oil but are waiting until after ‘tourist season.’ In the meantime, if a hurricane comes ashore, who is to say what the outcome will be.


There is much work to be done on the Gulf Coast to return it to health and there is much to be thankful for. I believe we must remember the spill so we can use it as a reminder that renewal energy is an absolute MUST in our country, in our world. Also, we still have cleanup to do and much oil to remove that remains in the ecosystem. Finally, I believe the spill is an opportunity to recognize the value of such beautiful and amazing resources found along the Gulf Coast and in all of nature. This man-made disaster is a reminder that we must work diligently to protect nature, refrain from exploiting natural resources, and be good planetary stewards.

Today, I am grateful for dolphins, pelicans, fish and all life that slowly recovers from the toxins released last year. My friend Brandon also posted on gratitude today and so I join him in promoting awareness and gratitude for the amazing world in which we live.

The Illusion of Separateness

The Illusion of Separateness

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I don’t understand the self-destructive war between humans and the Earth. It’s a fight picked by humans who continue to act as the aggressor. For years I have contemplated this question and have come to what I believe to be the root problem: We believe we are separate from nature, from each other. If we believe we are not connected to others, to the planet, we will act with destructive intentions for our own, self-centered goals irregardless of anyone or anything else.

In my own struggle to reach a place of peace and balance regarding the Gulf Oil Spill, I have uncovered within myself anger and frustration at humanity–not just to the oil companies or our government, but to all of us as consumers and uninvolved citizens. As I have done the inner work, read books by Joanna Macy and others, and explored the spiritual side of this disaster, I am convinced that it is our collective belief in separateness that allows violence toward each other and the Earth to continue.

How can we heal this belief that keeps us isolated, removed from a deep sense of belonging to our planetary mother? Without a soul connection to the Earth and each other, we experience profound loneliness and emptiness. We hunger for connection and try to fill the inner void by consuming more and more, thereby creating more destruction from our excessive demand for ‘goods.’ The vicious cycle will continue until individually and collectively we recognize and honor the interconnectedness we have with all life.

During one of my recent meditations I heard a question: Can you have compassion for the men that made decisions to continue drilling when the Deepwater Horizon Rig was malfunctioning? I pictured the corporate executives in a board room and I saw myself walking into the room. I breathed deeply and allowed my anger to dissipate. I saw them as my brothers, as part of the human family to which we all belong. I imagined animals from the Gulf in the room, not as judges but as part of our extended family. I recognized that only in seeing the connections we all have, can we begin to make a difference.

There’s no magic pill that will erase centuries of destruction nor is there a wand we can wave to erase our anger and frustration at the ongoing assault on the planet. Yet as more people recognize the interconnectedness of all life, our world can evolve and become a place that honors and respects all life. It begins within each of us and it takes daily practice.