Tag: gratitude

So Perfect the Night

So Perfect the Night

By |

The mother loggerhead heaved her massive body on to the white sand beach during a coastal thunderstorm and laid a nest of 119 eggs in her perfectly dug pit. After being satellite tagged “Storm” crawled back to sea, leaving her babies to incubate in the summer heat.

Fifty-seven days later, during a ferocious lightning storm, 87 hatchlings crawled to the salty water of the Gulf and began their lifetime of ocean living. Two more siblings made their appearance later that night.

The next night five more babies crawled out of the nest amid island visitors ooohhh’s and ahhh’s and questions about sea turtles and sharks and sand and practices adopted to assist the turtles. Another emerged later cheered on by children and adults alike. And while it’s wonderful that people take an interest in hatchlings and sea turtles (and anything unrelated to television, video games and other human-created distractions), sometimes it is stressful for those of us charged with keeping the turtles safe as they journey from nest to sea. What is the fine balance between allowing up close and personal viewing and danger for loggerhead hatchlings–a species protected by the Endangered Species Act?

The following night arrived and a few people were still inquiring about the status of additional hatchlings. We heard noise when we listened with the stethoscope but it sounded like the turtles were not progressing past a certain point in their crawl up and out. Tourists lost interest and wandered home. Children were called inside by family and finally the beach got quiet.

The orange moon began to peak above the condos far to the east. Three of us ‘green shirts’ remained, softly sharing stories of animals and the intimate connection women develop with the Earth and four-leggeds, winged-ones, finned-ones and creepy crawlers. The instinctual knowing we have because of our own child birth experiences and the understanding we share with the Earth as she labors with these little hatchlings, draws us closer to each other and to the turtles in the process of being birthed from the womb of the planet.

Stars lit up the sky as they hung close to us, three women sitting with this labor, this unfolding of life. The soft murmer of our voices sprinkled with joyful notes of laughter wove a web of safety as three more hatchlings slowly emerged from their confinement of hard, wet sand. Quietly we crawled beside them allowing them to find their way to the water, encouraging them with low notes of song or words of encouragement until they found their way to the rolling breakers that welcomed them in watery embrace.

Some argue that the method we use to assist the hatchlings is unnatural–using a trench, redirecting them when they head toward artificial light sources. However, the only way to re-create a natural sea turtle’s hatching experience is to return the beach to a natural state….a complete blackout of all lights on the beach and/or removing all buildings and tourists. Extreme? Of course, so we hold up towels or block light these babies are naturally attracted to, otherwise they crawl directly to the light. In the case of this particular nest, every baby made a bee-line due east once they reach the hard-packed sand…directly to the brightly-lit sky of the ‘condo run’ in Gulf Shores. Or like last night, to the house that had an inside light on that was illuminating the sand above the nest.

If humans created the dangers for sea turtle hatchlings, then humans must be responsible for making this right in some way. It is the only moral thing to do. Even if it involves hours of sitting on dark beaches waiting…..waiting….waiting. And for many of us, the willingness to correct mistakes made by humans to help such a vulnerable species knows no bounds.

The natural beach is long gone in Gulf Shores but it is still a place where humans can try to undo harm done to marine species such as sea turtles by giving them safe passage back to their ocean home. In the process we are transformed, we become attuned once again to the cycles of nature–the coming and going of tides, the patterns of stars, weather. In the truest sense, we are healed through our efforts to help sea turtles. With each hour spent, with every turtle that makes it to the water, we right a wrong done when the beaches were leveled and condos raised.

12 Hours on the Beach

12 Hours on the Beach

By |

Shuuuuuuuuuuuu…..shuffle..shuffle……SHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU…..shuffle–crawl….. Silence.

Cycles of tides, rhythms of waves, calls of gulls as they make their last patrol over the sand……shuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…shuffle….shuuuuuuuuu….the sounds of sea turtle hatchlings as they break free of their eggs and begin their long crawl from under the white quartz sand.

On July 23rd the sea turtle nest East Beach team had been monitoring for Laguna Key team was wildly active. We continued to hear cascades of sand that lasted over 90 seconds and they came often. Then vigorous digging began as the loggerheads slowly made their way up against the pull of gravity and toward the pull of something even greater for them–the Gulf of Mexico.

As we patiently waited and watched for the young ones to emerge, the waves continued to whisper to them and to us. Stars called out to their internal timing and the crescent moon teased them with light as it silently slipped over the watery horizon leaving us in the dark–expectant, hopeful for a birthing.

Little by little team members drifted homeward, needing rest and renewal. Finally four of us sat vigil under the starry, summer sky. With microphone and speaker still connected to the sand outside the nest, we listened for hours to the cascading sand, the scrapes, the crawling noises and silences as the hatchlings rested, weary from their efforts to reach the night sky.

Alas, even though a deep crater had formed, sunrise thwarted the babies best efforts and so they spent the hot day resting, preparing for another nighttime attempt to merge with saltwater where their mother and father drifted in the blue-green water, never to see the tiny ones their union created.

I can’t remember the last time I spent the night on the beach. During those twelve hours my body and mind became more attuned to the rhythms of nature, more at ease with sitting in my own silence and simply being, witnessing the tidal nature of life whether lived at the shore or inland. Breathing in starlight, exhaling love for the beauty that surrounds us….what could be more important, more sacred than this?

When words drift away and the mind surrenders its nearly constant effort to analyze and decipher and plan….when we go beyond mind to that place of expansion and breath…where we breathe with the incoming rush of waves and efforts the baby turtles make to be born…we begin to understand that the Earth holds us all in a holy embrace and we labor to be born, over and over again throughout our lives.

—-

The next night 73 tiny loggerheads found their way to the surface of their earthly home and made their way to the sea. Twelve long nights we sat vigil yet it was those last 12 hours that brought me back home….to myself, to the Gulf Coast, to the Path.

“There are plenty of sea turtles” and other misconceptions

“There are plenty of sea turtles” and other misconceptions

By |

I posted a photo of a sea turtle caught in a net on Facebook today and it had a link supporting TED’s or Turtle Excluding Devices. Two people connected with the commercial seafood industry cried out in anger saying shrimpers didn’t hurt sea turtles and they loved nature and besides (and I quote) “There are plenty of sea turtles.” After my blood pressure came back to normal and I got really depressed about nature’s continued destruction by humans I decided to do a little research.

First of all, all sea turtles that visit or live in US waters are on the endangered species list. National Marine Fisheries Service cites the following reasons: Destruction/alteration of nesting and foraging habitats (coastal development), incidental capture in commercial and recreational fisheries, entanglement in marine debris and vessel strikes. So while the shrimpers in the Gulf of Mexico may love nature, their nets do kill sea turtles and finned fish and other marine life that cannot escape. This is a known fact.

In 2011 more than 3500 threatened and endangered sea turtles washed up dead on the Gulf and Atlantic Coasts. Only 5 to 6% of dead turtles wash ashore…do the math on the total estimated number of sea turtles killed just last year.

Nets properly equipped with TED’s are proved to be 97% effective in releasing sea turtles. And this comes after trials and rebuilds on the equipment. Very few shrimpers voluntarily used TED’s so laws were put into practice to require some shrimpers to use TED’s.

According to the person that replied to my post, the government is lying about all this. He went on to say that coastal development hurt sea turtles as did other fishing boats who don’t use TED’s and he’s right on both accounts. But I  know of shrimpers that used to shoot sea turtles, years ago, because they would get in their nets. I actually even found one shot and dead on the beach many years ago. Times have changed for sure. Hopefully that kind of behavior is no longer practiced. Now, if someone does that and gets caught they go to prison and lose their boat.

We think that kind of atrocious behavior is in the past but actually on June 21st of this summer, a bottlenose dolphin was found with a screwdriver sticking in its head. It had been reported in Perdido Bay and was still alive but was later discovered dead. So much for humans acting appropriately. Even the fine of up to $100,000 and a year in jail doesn’t deter people who, for whatever reason, cannot temper their inclination for seriously stupid and cruel behavior.

I find myself overwhelmed with emotions of sadness, grief and anger at what we humans are doing to this planet and each other. There are people that care and there are people that refuse to accept responsibility for their behaviors and call it the Will of God if a species goes extinct. So…should we not have doctors and let the problem species of the planet die off? Then everything else would come into balance. Of course not. But oh for a magic pill that would help us all see how our behaviors, thoughts, intentions and actions are destroying the planet and each other.

When I found myself deep in dark emotions this afternoon, I lit and candle and said a prayer for understanding. A few minutes later, while folding clothes, I heard these words: Those that don’t care about the planet and are only concerned about how much wealth they can amass, want you to quit, to give up. They want everyone who is bringing awareness, practicing compassion and love–to wildlife, wild places, and people who are hurting–to give up. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Love deeply, have compassion for all life and continue with the Work.

I replied back to the gentleman and let him know I heard his frustration about developers getting away with anything because they have money. I understand and agree. I also agree that some commercial and recreational fishermen and women follow the rules and some don’t. What I suggested was a dialogue between fishermen and women and National Marine Fisheries and NOAA. Rather than fighting each other and both sides claiming the other is lying, find common ground. Start healthy, sane dialogues. Otherwise we are destined to repeat and perpetuate the same old dysfunctional way of being.

Diary of a Wild Heart–Part One

Diary of a Wild Heart–Part One

By |

“I feel overwhelmed with love and respect and compassion for all creatures of the sea. Tiny creatures, camouflaged to all who pass in haste, I stop and hover motionless awaiting the moment our eyes connect and we acknowledge the sacred light within each other.”

The above passage was taken from my journal after my first dive back on my “second” home–the home of my water heart–Bonaire. As I was transferring all the data into my dive log back home, I realized that first dive of the week was my 500th dive. I couldn’t think of a better place to celebrate and to connect with my favorite place to be–under water.

Over the next several days I’ll be posting parts and pieces of, Diary of a Wild Heart. Below find Part One.

As I was walking along the shore in front of the resort this morning I felt my heart open, my soul open, to the elements. Water, wind, earth, fire of the rising sun. In the whispers of the wind I heard that I have a choice each day–connect with my wild nature or not. My wildness, my instinctual self, is calling me. Hello! Bon jour! Wake up! Time to play with nature.

So  on the first morning I drove south while the rest of the group went on boat dives. The wind got wilder, as did the waves, the further toward the southern tip of the island I traveled. Earth and wind and water are crazy there. That rough-in-your-face-and-blow-right-through-you wind howls there and so the carry-your-soul-away ocean wave action resides there as well.

I exited the truck and stepped onto the ironstone, ancient coral rock with incredibly sharp edges. The clink-clink of tumbling coral could be heard amid the rush of huge waves crashing onto shore. Such rugged beauty blasted me powerfully, completely. I breathed deeply, inhaling the salt smell I craved. From the center of my being I whispered, Thank you. I had come home to my wild heart.

Ghosts Beneath the Water

Ghosts Beneath the Water

By |

There are times when the river is calm, when the water reflects the gray clouds and what lies beneath the surface is revealed–almost.

While paddling my SUP board in the early morning, when my mind is still halfway between the dream world and this waking realm, I often wonder, Which realm is revealing itself? Last week almost the entire three miles of gliding and communing in my River Cathedral was spent gazing just beneath the surface where scores of small fish intertwined and moved as one body in their schools of life.

I feel amazed. Full of wonder. Grateful.