On this Mother’s Day I am especially grateful to loggerhead sea turtle mothers who give me incentive to awaken before dawn, drive to the beach and walk along the Gulf just before, during and after sunrise. It gives me opportunities to photograph pure, rich color.
There are a very few moments in which to capture the richest, most precious light. Between the pre-dawn gray and post-dawn white there is a sweetness where color bursts forth from the water, earth and sky and everything the sacred sunrise kisses. The muted, soft pastels are transformed momentarily into rich colors of incredible depth. Then the harshness of daylight washes them into a faded expression of what they once were reminding me of the impermanence of life.
Ambitious architects from the day before provided a perfect surface for the perfect light to illuminate and I arrived at their castle at the perfect moment, when the light was at its richest. Some times things work out exactly as you would hope.
There were no sea turtle tracks on the section of beach I patrol but that’s only part of the reason I volunteer. I go for the sunrise because sweet is the light.
The next adventure is booked and already I heard spotted dolphins whistling and sharks gnashing their teeth. I had been putting the question out there, into the Void, “Where is my next adventure?” Just Monday I had posed the question out loud in query. The echo came rather quickly. A friend messaged me yesterday reminding me of an upcoming trip to Bimini and when I looked at the description and itinerary I felt immediate joy. YES!
Each of us gets lost in our own inner process as we prepare to enter the water.
Years ago, while in undergraduate school studying outdoor recreation, I learned that much of the satisfaction of a vacation or adventure comes from the moment a person begins planning it. The anticipation of the trip is where much pleasure is generated, not just the experience itself. I jumped into planning the logistics of the Bimini quickly and found everything coming together effortlessly.
Arranging flights was easy. Frequent flyer miles purchased the US portion of the flight and with each successful step of negotiating the details, excitement grew and joy began bouncing around within my mind and heart.
Spotted dolphins….every day. Sharks and baby shark encounters….oh, my gosh! Could anything be cuter than baby sharks? All those teeth in munchkin size bodies. (Sigh).
I realized today, after chatting with a friend who decided just this morning to go along, that too often we put off feeling joy. We don’t have to have an awesomely cool photography trip (or whatever makes you happy) on the horizon to get the internal joy juices flowing…every day we have the opportunity to be present with joy.
A ‘selfie’ with a little buddy checking out my permit vest in Crystal River NWR.
There’s no need to postpone joy or start a countdown to it. Every moment we can find joy…in spring birdsong, rainy days, sunny days, flowers bursting forth with wild colors. Or dreaming about our next adventure. I propose that we put ourselves on the fast track to joy by finding one thing each day (at a minimum) in which to celebrate and connect with our beautiful, open hearts. Who’s in?
Wednesday–After pre-dawn yoga on the deck, I went up to the flying bridge and danced to the Ocean Mother, to whales and to life as the sun rose. I feel the sea living through me more each day. I sometimes feel like the wild, baby humpback yesterday. Antsy, funny, just learning what it means to be alive in a body. Playful yet not quite sure how to proceed in life. But I’m going to sing and dance and be One with the Ocean.
The group of whales at the old wreck were active early in the day, their exhalations golden in the early morning light. Joyful, joyful are they!
Mother and baby swim side-by-side
All morning on our small boat we watched mother humpbacks and babies quite near our moorings. Everywhere we looked there were mothers and babies and it appeared to be boot camp for babies. Moms were teaching their newly born how to fin slap, tail lob and breach. There is only a small window of opportunity to build the strength of their young before they begin their migration to northern feeding waters. As I observed today, it seemed there was a common theme of training their offspring.
Mother fin-slapping while baby watches from her side
Once again I was struck with the tenderness and attention the mothers give the juveniles. Yesterday I watched a mother follow her baby as he rose to the surface to breathe. Not with her body but with her eyes. Every move he made she watched, ready to assist if he needed help or if danger threatened. One of the biggest mistakes humans have ever made is to assume that any creature not in human form is somehow less intelligent, less caring, less sentient.
Juvenile attempting to fin slap…note her eye in the far right of the image
The mothers were far too busy training their young to be distracted by our desire to be in the water with them. One of the rules of the sanctuary is that only when whales are settled can human visitors enter the water. When they are fin slapping, tail lobbing or breaching it’s simply unsafe for all concerned. An adult pectoral fin is 15 feet in length…the force involved when it slams into the water’s surface is significant and can be heard from far away.
The babies have far less control of their floppy tails but try hard to mimic mom with tail lobs..mom is in foreground watching from beneath the surface
After lunch and a squall that moved across the area, we went back out for more searching. There were many whales but none interested in us. As strange as that sounds, after this trip I am convinced that they choose the interactions we have. It’s always on their terms. There were many times when all small boats would be tied to their respective mother ships and the whales would be all around, watching us. As soon as the tenders would head back out, the whales would disappear and come up far away or stay just out of reach, as if toying with us and leading us further into rougher water. They have a wicked sense of humor I suspect.
Impressive tail breach by an adult
At the very end of the day, after hanging with and following a rowdy group for a while we were invited to our sister boat’s encounter with a mom and baby. The water was rough and the visibility not good so I didn’t take my camera into the water. Second time I regretted that decision.
At the very end of the encounter the frisky baby came incredibly close to our group of seven…within ten feet of us…cruising by and making eye contact. Truly an amazing experience; however, there will be no photo memories of it. Sometimes the imprint on my heart is much bigger than a photographic image on paper could ever be.
But still…..
Baby humpback’s head at the surface
Each day was different and the first two days of the trip were better than the entire week last year. There is no predicting what the whales will do or where they will be or if they will allow close proximity. I think they have learned the behaviors of the small boats and humans who visit and as mentioned above, I truly believe they choose who they wish to interact with, when and where. I hold no doubts of this.
Beautiful mother whale laying on her back fin slapping with baby nearby
My final journal entry for the day, “I’m so tired I can scarcely write anything. Only in reviewing images do I actually realize what great experiences I had each day. I. Am. Grateful.”
The clock proclaimed sunrise but heavy clouds hung close so dawn’s light was slow to brighten the day. Silently I slipped into the water, wrapped in my dry suit and holding my heavy, underwater camera equipment. With a slow and quiet frog kick I moved toward the narrow opening of the spring.
A manatee exiting the clear water paused in passing, watched me for a few moments and then moved forward in her glacial, flowing pace. Low light and particulate matter in the open water made a shot impossible but communion was exchanged and was sweet.
As I approached the spring, a manatee laid sleeping on the white, sandy bottom. I carefully avoided splashing and went around him and into the clear water of the freshwater spring.
Ten manatees of various sizes lay asleep on the bottom, huddled together in a common area. I glided away from them toward the back of the small spring and turned to face them from a distance. I took a few photographs as the light increased and then felt drawn into their meditation, into their group mind of stillness and dreaming warm, saltwater dreams.
In the quiet, peaceful water temple I closed my eyes and floated effortlessly with heart and mind open. The beauty of their being touched my core. No thoughts, just sensations enveloped me. Cool water on my face and neck; gravity-free except for the heavy camera rig in my hands; muscles relaxed; gentle floating….total surrender and release of all stress, tension…of everything except that moment of manatee mind.
One woman, ten sirens of the sea communing in perfect harmony caused time to disappear. We joined in that glorious, timeless dimension of stillness and quiet.
The moments of harmony with my sisters and brothers were some of the sweetest I have ever experienced.
After several minutes I opened my eyes and noticed my open heart and calm mind. I said a silent prayer of gratitude for the gift of this encounter then took several photographs, hoping to be able to translate, through art, the experience that so powerfully touched my core.
Slowly, quietly I moved around the side of the rock wall toward the exit. I turned before leaving to offer my thanks to the manatees and witnessed several slowly rise from their resting place on the bottom to the surface to take a deep, full breath. So in-tune in their sleep, their meditation they breathed in unison. Humans have much to learn from these gentle beings.
Throughout King’s Bay and Crystal River there are official sanctuaries or areas set aside where manatees can rest without human interference. Heavy fines and penalties are imposed on anyone entering these designated safe-zones. Today in the small, clear spring, I found my own place of peace, my own sanctuary.
Image of a juvenile taken the day before in Three Sister’s Springs
My fist pounded the sandy bottom of the deep Ocean as a huge wave of energy arose within me: I am here! Come to me! This message went out to the illusive and slippery ideas and opportunities I have been pursuing. Deep peace, first experienced when the Mother Humpback and her baby floated just feet below me last year in the Atlantic Ocean, returned. Oh, this is peace, I remembered.
Gradually, waking awareness returned as I surfaced from the deep meditation. Finally, I got it! For months I have been ‘hearing’ to be still and listen to the silence but monkey mind has tossed me around like a feather in a hurricane. What is the best way to activate monkey mind? Ask it to be still….to listen. NOOOOO!!!! It screams!
This image was taken while visiting St. Kitts. The monkeys would sit and scream at each other and race to get rum drinks left by beach-goers who abandoned their drinks while swimming.
In my personal journey the quest over the past few months has been to listen for clues regarding the next step in my life’s work. The wonderful mind took the assignment like a monkey running for unattended rum drinks on the beach at St. Kitts. Daily meditations, until this morning, yielded the awareness that stillness and silence was an open invitation for monkey mind to run screaming. During meditations and daily life, my mind was still searching and pursuing the what-when-how of life with crazy intensity. Where was the stillness? The silence?
The past two days were almost unbearable with my mind digging up fears with amazing ability. This morning as I sat down to meditate I simply said…ENOUGH! I lit the candles, cleared the space and set the intention. Since last March I have focused my meditations on the Ocean and a particular humpback whale I connected with. This morning, like many over the past months, she took me deep into blue water and showed me a large, simple pearl on the Ocean floor. My mind took off running but the whale mother called my focus back to the pearl. “Stop chasing after ideas and sit still,” she beckoned. I followed her direction and let go.
It’s time to stop letting my mind chase ideas, directions, possibilities. It is time to be still and quiet and open.
I imagined pulling on a large cord that is connected to a gong…the kind that sounds when someone arrives home to a large estate or manor. I….am….here! No longer will I chase after anything. This is me. I am here. By claiming integration of myself I create space for the Universe to fill life with everything needed.
On the way out the door to yoga I grabbed a banana to honor the incredible monkey mind that has worked so very hard. When I arrived at class Augusta announced the theme of our practice would be Coming Home to Ourselves. That’s how the Universe works. When I awakened this morning I thought about skipping class, so much had monkey mind worn on me this week. Thankfully the breakthrough in meditation opened the door to the next step. And yoga practice opened the door to embodying the truth of coming home to myself.
As Buddy Hobbs, my puppy friend, and I walked through the beautiful live oak forest in the nearby state park this afternoon, I realized how Buddy’s puppy energy is like my monkey mind. Working to teach him how to follow instructions, to listen, to settle into his body is exactly what I’m doing to train my outrageous mind. Admittedly, he’s a much better student than my unruly mind at times. As we walked under moss-draped branches I began giving him a command… “Back in” with the intention of helping him come back into himself rather than pull against the leash. Come back in your body, Buddy. And as I said, “Back in” I made sure I was fully at home in my body….with mind centered and present. And….he got it! Come back, Buddy. Embody yourself. I suppose I was saying it as much to myself as I was to my canine kid.
On this Mother’s Day I am especially grateful to loggerhead sea turtle mothers who give me incentive to awaken before dawn, drive to the beach and walk along the Gulf just before, during and after sunrise. It gives me opportunities to photograph pure, rich color.
There are a very few moments in which to capture the richest, most precious light. Between the pre-dawn gray and post-dawn white there is a sweetness where color bursts forth from the water, earth and sky and everything the sacred sunrise kisses. The muted, soft pastels are transformed momentarily into rich colors of incredible depth. Then the harshness of daylight washes them into a faded expression of what they once were reminding me of the impermanence of life.
Ambitious architects from the day before provided a perfect surface for the perfect light to illuminate and I arrived at their castle at the perfect moment, when the light was at its richest. Some times things work out exactly as you would hope.
There were no sea turtle tracks on the section of beach I patrol but that’s only part of the reason I volunteer. I go for the sunrise because sweet is the light.
