OCEAN Archives - Page 5 of 16 -

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!

Before the Dawn

By Simone Lipscomb | June 30, 2013

The Earth issues an invitation to commune with the light. Each Sunday morning I answer by rising before dawn and walking along the shore at the Gulf of Mexico. My purpose is to look for sea turtle tracks that indicate nesting activity but my intention is simply to listen and share with the salt water, the white-sand shores and the essence of light that, in my mind, is the creative force from which everything arises and to which it returns.

Dawn on the beach near Gulf Shores, Alabama

Being part of a dedicated team of individuals who love sea turtles and nature is rewarding. Its that affiliation that nudges me out of slumber and my list of excuses to make it to ‘church’ on time.

I started walking both ways in my section of beach to have more time in nature and to extend my time in communion with the nameless emanation of love…of light. I share aloud with the sea my grief at humanity’s sins against the planet and each other. I beam with excitement as the light changes prior to sunrise. The sight of a dolphin’s dorsal fin slicing through the surface ignites passion for and love of all creatures– the fish being chased and eaten by dolphins and sharks…and osprey; tiny coquina shells returning after being wiped out from the oil spill three years ago; ghost crabs….all life is sacred.

In the Sunday morning pilgrimage I look for sea turtle tracks and expand my heart energy walking east. After reaching the western most point in my section, I turn and walk back picking up trash left by humanity. Water bottles, cigarette butts, tampon applicators, boat bailing jugs, fishing lures, aluminum cans, rope, balloon bits and small bits of broken plastic. That was this morning’s haul. Later I’ll sort it into recycling and trash piles.

It is during this walk back where I especially feel grief as I gather in the sins of humanity into a garbage bag–the bits and pieces of cast-off junk thoughtlessly tossed or left to injure sea life, decompose over the next 500 years into toxic components. Oh, this is the challenging time in my conversation with light.

This morning, two things of notice happened. First, on my eastward trek I kept feeling a presence to my right. I looked out over the Gulf and saw a cloud, illuminated by dawn’s glory before the sun had peeked above the horizon. The magic of sunrise, the magic of light at work.

The Harry Potter nest this morning.... — The Harry Potter nest this morning….

The second little miracle was a sea turtle nest found by two of my patrol buddies on another section of ‘our’ beach. Life continues.

Sky from last year....the favorite photograph of light I've taken — Sky from last year…favorite photograph of light I’ve taken

And while answers haven’t been forthcoming so much lately, it could be true that it really is darkest just before the dawn. Let there be light!

Tides Are Turning

By Simone Lipscomb | June 24, 2013

I can almost hear the squeaking, grinding gears of the cogs of the old machinery as it begins to come to a stop and reverse directions. In the past week here’s a short list of positive happenings: Australian government begins a legal case against Japanese government about whale slaughter in the name of scientific research; India’s goverment banned dolphin captivity calling dolphins highly intelligent and sensitive non-human persons; a massive PR campaign to help sharks and show they are NOT the bad guys…12 people were killed last year by sharks worldwide while 11,417 sharks are killed PER HOUR by humans; Denmark installs the largest offshore wind farm in the world with 91 turbines that they are hoping will supply 10% of Europe’s energy needs in the next few years; a settlement was reach by oil companies by they agreeing not to use sonar air guns that torment and injure marine mammals…til the end of 2015; a judge protected a Kentucky coal miner who was wrongfully dismissed after raising safety concerns and was sued by the coal mining company; a victory for NC sea turtles and shore birds…driving on beach regulations upheld; the Supreme Court will hear a case against a ruling that overturned EPA mandate for cleaner air…let’s hope the justices prove they are not owned by corporations; and finally an event to celebrate the Earth and spread joy in even the most wounded places was held Saturday…Radical Joy for Hard Times.

That’s a lot of good news. Even though we continue to hear a lot of bad news as well, I believe the tide is turning. The work people are doing all over the world is making a difference. And once consciousness begins to shift, it’s going to shift big and fast and momentum will build!

Joanna Macy lead our group to greater understanding of how to help our planet and each other at Rowe, MA

While I know we’re not there yet, I have hope that we will raise awareness and gather strength through people with big hearts and open minds coming together. As we unite for the planet and all species, we are very truly uniting for our own species health and wellbeing. There is no separation from nature. We are part of it, it is part of us. It’s time to remember this truth and keep the turning in motion.

Still Room for Hope

By Simone Lipscomb | June 5, 2013

The morning began by a walk to the water before sunrise while the silver light of the waning moon still illuminated the sea. When the blue was still kissed with silver I stood, toes in sand, sinking into the soft substrate while warm, clear salt water kissed my feet.

In the quiet, when the birds were still considering their opportune moment to call up the sun, I breathed in the day.

As dead pieces of coral tumbled and tinkled in the rolling water, small bits of colored sea glass glittered amid the neutral tones of sand and coral rock. I began collecting them, gathering them into my empty tea cup.

I bent over in my sea glass meditation, in a sort of salutation to the morning, and in a moment of clarity gained understanding. I realized how broken litter–human garbage–was transformed into objects of beauty by the constant motion of waves working the sharp edges and shiny surfaces into something new and beautiful.

Many sins humans commit against our planet can still be righted. There is still time for us to collectively turn the tide and create something wonderful and healing. We can stop the assaults, poor decisions and mistreatment we have leveled upon the Earth and all of Her creatures, the land, water and air.

I smiled at the thought of a global awakening and realized the same metaphor applied to my life…to every individual’s life. The constant movement through changes and obstacles keeps refining us, inviting us to allow a deepening of awareness and an unfolding and strengthening of our talents and skills.

Each of us has the ability to become more beautiful, more effective in our walk on the planet. We can choose to remain broken or we can allow the process of transformation to change us into brighter expressions of our highest selves. There is indeed still room for hope.

Never Alone

By Simone Lipscomb | May 30, 2013

I stood, softly whistling my best beautiful-tiny-yellow-song bird impression while the golden, feathered songsters perched in the tree cocking their heads, watching me. Such sweet answers they gave me. Such joy they evoked within me. Tears of delight filled my eyes as I opened myself to the day.

Minutes before, my eyes absorbed turquoise and indigo, a direct line to my soul. Whooshing sounds of waves pushing against the coral rocks echoed within. Warm, sunrise-infused air hugged me and played with my hair.

I would not trade this moment for anything I know. Alone but not alone. Never alone.