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To a Jellyfish

To a Jellyfish

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You rear up as I approach. Your head, blue-purple, follows me as I walk. I stop and kneel on the sand and observe you, as you ‘observe’ me. Your tentacles are blackened with oil. You bend and twist, as I move, as if to dance in some ballet of consciousness with me.

I reach a finger toward you, to make contact. You move to meet my finger. You have no physical eyes like mammals yet somehow you can sense me. I wonder if the wind pushes you. Maybe my imagination has run away with me. So I move again. You follow me. So now, you have my full attention.

 

 

I open my hand, a gesture of friendship, an opening of my spirit to yours. We connect without words or even thoughts. We reach toward one another, trying to gain understanding. I let go of thinking, for a while, and we exist in a state of grace with each other.

Then I think: What if everything we believe to be true about sentience and consciousness is really false? Humans have arrogantly elevated ourselves above everything else. Gigantic brains or gigantic egos? We think our ability to use tools propels us forward…sure it does…into things like development, exploitation, pollution. Yet, I don’t see you, oh beautiful blue-ballooned one, spreading toxins into our environment or even into yours. In fact, I believe humans are the only species stupid enough to destroy the very environment in which they live.

I open my hand, a gesture of friendship, an opening of my spirit to yours. We connect without words or even thoughts. We reach toward one another, trying to gain understanding. I let go of thinking, for a while, and we exist in a state of grace with each other.

 

Then I think: What if everything we believe to be true about sentience and consciousness is really false? Humans have arrogantly elevated ourselves above everything else. Gigantic brains or gigantic egos? We think our ability to use tools propels us forward…sure it does…into things like development, exploitation, pollution. Yet, I don’t see you, oh beautiful blue-ballooned one, spreading toxins into our environment or even into yours. In fact, I believe humans are the only species stupid enough to destroy the very environment in which they live.

 

What if we have it backwards? What if we are the lesser species, dumb asses so stuck in our egos that we destroy the place that gives us life? How does that exhibit intelligence? The wharf crabs seem to be perfectly content living under the plastic bag (that we created) coming out occasionally to eat tasty morsels washed up from the bay waters. Uncomplicated life. Living in the moment. No need to rush to Walmart to pick up the latest gadget for entertainment. They have no need. Everything they need is provided.

 

 

 

The next time I see a Great Blue Heron hunting, without a fishing rod, GPS, or sonar fish finder, I will offer my apologies for ever thinking I was smarter than she. We are bent on making our species extinct by forgetting our connection to the land, by forgetting who we are.

It’s time to remember. It’s time to wake up.

Dare to Look Closer–Update on the Gulf of Mexico

Dare to Look Closer–Update on the Gulf of Mexico

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Today was my first day back at the Gulf Coast since mid-September. After torrential rains last night, the day cleared off nicely and left a very beautiful afternoon. As I walked the beach at Gulf State Park Pier, I noticed many gulls and terns resting on the beach, rough water, hefty wind and a haze that happens when wind picks up salt spray.

Great news was coquina shells in the surf zone…ones that were alive and working to feed by burying into the sand. Last time I visited I saw no evidence of live coquinas at any beach. I was thrilled! Sanderlings were running up to the quickly-burrowing bi-valves trying to catch a meal before it disappeared. I was feeling very hopeful and excited for the ecosystem.

The blowing haze was not really bothersome. The beach is often hazy when the water is rough. I noticed slight bubbly, oily mousse on the water but not as much as I had seen before so I didn’t think much of it. Had I lapsed into the kind of person I blog about? That apathetic humanoid?

I decided to wander over to the sea oats and bury a crystal a friend had sent me to place on the beach as a gift to the Gulf, a token thank you and ‘get well soon’ gift. When I approached the sea oats I noticed they were glistening. Hmm. I took my fingers and pinched a blade of the grass and ran it the distance of it. Surprise, surprise!! I looked and there was a light coating of oil on my fingers.

It wasn’t dirt or mold. It was slick like…ummmm…like oil. It smelled slightly of oil. I remembered, while kneeling in the sand, hearing Rear Admiral Mary (GAG) Landry state back in June or July that they knew for certain that the oil could not become air born. Pardon me Mary, but it is air borne. Oh, but didn’t the government and BP say the oil is mostly gone? Gone meaning dispersed to the point where the wind can actually push it further inland, making it an airborne toxin? Oh, yes. It’s gone. Sure…GONE INTO THE AIR! If you, my reader friends, were under the impression that BP and the government told the truth well, don’t hold your breath…or maybe…DO hold your breath.

In addition to the oily mousse on the beach and in the air, I saw an old friend on the beach. I took images and video of this gull a month ago. His foot webbing is eaten away and his leg is broken and sticks out at an odd angle yet he is still alive, still flying and has learned to scratch his head with the floppy foot and leg. I noticed webbing in shorebird’s feet with holes in it when I was here in July, when the oil was at its thickest on the Alabama coast.

I wanted so badly to begin my week here with positive news that would make everyone sit back and have a big, contented sigh. Or maybe…just maybe…I was wanting to find everything magically restored like I keep reading on the press releases BP and the Coast Guard keep sending me. “Another 5000 square miles of the Gulf are open…eat more seafood.” And yes…there are improvements. Each time I return there are improvements. Yet what is happening to wildlife exposed to constant oil-ladden winds? What is happening to the clean-up workers who are in it 12 hours a day? What about people like me who wander the beaches?

I suppose my main question is why has mainstream media disappeared and left wildlife, the water, the plants, the air, and for God sake, the PEOPLE, as if everything is fine and all is well? I am so weary of hearing that it’s all good here on the coast. I want as much as anyone to be able to give all wonderful, happy news about the oil spill recovery. I want this precious, sacred land and water to be clean and pristine. I long for it, I weep for it.

Alas, it is a mixed report of positive news with serious concerns about the air quality and the eventual fallout for all wildlife, plant life and humans that live or visit here. In a year how many birds will be left on this coastline? Can they reproduce due to constant contact with contaminates and if so, what will be the genetic consequences their offspring will live with? What about fish and shellfish and marine mammals constantly exposed to this “low level” soup of crude oil?

I came back to my mother’s and showered immediately, not even taking the time to capture the beautiful Mobile Bay sunset beckoning from her front yard. I was far more concerned about removing the coating of toxins I was wearing.

Marking the Date

Marking the Date

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Yesterday was the six month anniversary of the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill Disaster. It was also the date of my first presentation on my new book, which devotes the last section of images and writing to the event. As I shared about my work at the Gulf during the heaviest part of the spill and my continued commitment to documenting the unfolding story there, interest from the group was keen. One of my deepest fears is that people will forget and return to status quo, foregoing the lessons the spill can teach us. This group wanted to learn more and their interest went beyond the allotted time for the event. People have a desire to be informed. This fact gave me hope.

Even though I’m visiting the coast monthly, I have not openly discussed my experience lately. Reading from my book and sharing images from July and August made the sense of trauma, of rawness return. Later in the day I found myself anxious, on edge, and reliving the trauma I felt while standing on the beaches watching ankle-deep oily sludge coat the pure white sand, killing everything it touched.

It was many weeks after the major inundation of oil that I realized I was experiencing symptoms of PTSD. Gradually I was able to work through them because I was aware and took steps to nurture beauty in my life, meditate, exercise, eat healthy foods. Yesterday I saw myself three months ago and knew I had healed a lot. But what about others? The people that live there, the animals, plants, water, sand/soil?

I return soon for another week on the Gulf Coast. My plan is to visit the seven sensitive land areas and immerse myself in observation of birds, animals, and daily functions of the ecosystems there. Sitting with a sick friend helps you learn more about their condition, right? So that’s my intention for this visit. I’m taking crystals people have sent as a gift of healing for the earth and with them, their prayers for restoration and health of the land, water, air, wildlife, plant life, and people.

As we look back on this event that continues to unfold, may we remember the 11 human lives lost and the countless lives of wildlife…sea turtles, birds, whales, dolphins, fish and microscopic life we rarely consider. May we remember as a way to honor them and to become honorable planetary stewards.

Autumnal Bliss

Autumnal Bliss

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The seasonal miracle transformation has begun. As I sit in my upstairs office, with windows overlooking the valley and mountains below, my field of vision is full of oranges, yellows, reds and greens. My breath quickens as the trees reveal their beauty and I walk through my house of windows in constant gratitude for the colors filling my home…my soul.

Along with joy bubbling up within me from the outrageous hues bathing my little corner of the world, there is also sadness. I know this is a prelude to the death of millions of leaves that have whispered and sung to me through the spring and summer. Now, their voices turn raspy as they dry out and rustle against each other, preparing to say goodbye.

Yet their passing is part of the cycle of life, seasons giving birth to seasons. So rather than allow grief to depress me, I let it sharpen my celebration of life, of love and all things of beauty, that in their own time move from one state of being to another.

Nature is a constant reminder of the impermanence of ‘things.’ What do I value most in my life? Qualities of being that are beyond the physical but are reflected by it, through nature.

Jen Fraser took this image of me last autumn.
From Fort Morgan to Fort Pickens

From Fort Morgan to Fort Pickens

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Today I visited the Fort Morgan, Alabama, beach and other beaches along the route to Fort Pickens in Gulf Breeze Florida. The overall ‘appearance’ is pretty good considering what it looked like six weeks ago. Fort Morgan had many pelicans, gulls, terns and willets foraging along the shore. There were many bait fish in the surf zone which provided a feast for the birds and bigger fish as well as one dolphin I noticed.

There is a shelf of oil about half an inch thick that is buried under sand at the point of Ft Morgan. Also, there are millions of tiny tar balls scattered on the beach there.

As I was photographing at the point, a contractor for BP drove up on a four-wheeler and started talking. He said he just goes down to the point to read his paper. He jokingly asked me not to take his photograph because he’d get in trouble. The guy was really nice but my complaint all along with the crew at Ft Morgan has been the work ethic, or lack thereof. Mr. Safety Officer, BP is paying you to work, not sit and read your paper.

Next, I visited Romar Beach in Orange Beach, Alabama. It had been very heavily oiled earlier in the summer. Today, the sand was groomed and mostly white with only a small amount of discoloration. There was a very slight crude oil smell near the water, but very faint. Oil sank off shore here as it did in the wildlife refuge so there was a small amount of oily froth, but very slight.

There are still workers cleaning the beaches at Johnson Beach. But this wasn’t them. These guys were at Ft Pickens cleaning the beaches there. Both areas are in the Gulf Islands National Seashore. The Johnson Beach crew was working at a very relaxed pace. (That’s a nice way to describe their work ethic). Both areas are using the sifting machines, just like Romar Beach and Gulf State Park beaches.

Finally, I visited Gulf State Park’s Alabama Point, near the Florida-Alabama line. The beaches here had small tar balls under groomed sand. It was a lovely afternoon on the shore there with salty air blowing briskly off the Gulf. It was a good place to end my whirlwind two day check of the places I have documented and will continue to document for the next year.

While there has been much progress made in cleaning the beaches along the Alabama and Florida coasts, there are still sunken patches of oil that continue to release toxins. I don’t want us to stick our heads in the sand and think that because the beaches appear clean, everything is fine.

Here are my main concerns: 1) There have been a lot of blue crabs along the Alabama coast that were killed. Six weeks ago they were lethargic in the surf zone. Now their carcasses are washed up on the beaches. The bottom feeders were and are being very badly affected. 2) There are no active coquina shells, that I could see. These are tiny bivalves that burrow into the sand and form a vital link in the food chain. This concerns me greatly. 3) The beaches that are ‘groomed’ are ones that are visited by people. The worst beaches, by far, of the seven I visited the past two days were part of the Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge. At both locations in the refuge (Mobile Street and Ft Morgan) there were millions of tiny tar balls in the sand. Ft Morgan has a visible shelf of oil-sand mix and the Mobile St entrance area (near the hiking trail junction with the beach) has oily mousse continuing to wash in. I am concerned that wildlife habitat is being neglected in order to appease merchants desire to have tourists see white, groomed sand in the more populated beaches. Areas that we set aside for wildlife are just as important as areas humans visit. 4) People are fishing, crabbing, and shrimping here. The black oil I saw in the crabs washed up tends to point to a safety question. Do you want to risk being the top end of the food chain that gets the build-up of ALL the dispersant and crude oil toxins? It makes no sense to allow harvesting of seafood at this point. No common sense anyway. 5) There are still animals dying and I wonder why their carcasses are not collected and analyzed. BP is supposed to pay per bird, per turtle, per dolphin….but these deaths appear to being ignored. So the death counts will be incorrect.

Finally, I applaud the majority of contract workers who have worked hard to clean the beaches. Many of them have worked with dedication. All of them are risking their health and quite possibly their lives. You guys and gals have worked the front lines of this disaster and you have definitely made a difference. THANK YOU!

There is still work to do and we must depend on independent scientists who will take the samples, collect data and tell the truth about what is happening to the ecosystem along the beautiful Gulf Coast. We are depending on you, but more important, the wildlife–the innocents–are depending on you.