nature Archives - Page 40 of 70 -

Sea of Cortez…Part One

By Simone Lipscomb | July 28, 2015

Friday and Saturday…July 17th & 18th

If the sky from Pensacola to Atlanta on the evening flight can predict how spectacular the trip to the Sea of Cortez will be, I can relax. The towering clouds of red and orange are magnificent and perhaps the most amazing sunset sky I have ever witnessed. But I am paying close attention to my ears as there is still the lingering respiratory bug caught on a flight from Bonaire just two weeks ago. If my ears won’t clear I cannot dive…on a dive trip.

I like to space my trips out but this opportunity came up and I turned it down twice before a woman cancelled and another spot opened so how could I say, “No.” When things happen like this I just go with it and trust that I’m making the right choice.

The midnight arrival (Pacific time) at my Phoenix hotel room makes me crave sleep but the internal clock awakens me far too early. I feel miserably tired and like the cold virus caught a deeper hold in my immune system from lack of rest. In meditation this morning I relax and visualize my body healing with blue-white light.

Breakfast, lunch and then time to catch the shuttle to Rocky Point, Mexico.

The journal comes out as the shuttle passes through the Sonoran Desert of Arizona…and Mexico. This place of desert inspires solitude, a deepening of the inner experience of quiet. The elemental energies of wild places call to me.

Why do I like the desert so? Perhaps because there is no place to hide, a person is totally exposed. The desert drys the bodies of wildlife, cactus, humans until there is only white bone left…and that also disappears eventually.

In the distance, a streak of lightning hits near the mountain. Dark, blue-black clouds hang near the earth bringing life-giving water to the thirsty desert. Or floods.

Can’t hide in a desert, there’s so much light. Shining so strong, Oh, so bright. Lay bare these bones.

Let the storm winds blow ancient dust, where I have been buried, to the four directions. Lightning strike the mountain and bring down the rocky fortress that has been my protection, my prison. Sheets of rain release me from this grave of fear. Lay bare these bones so I might quench my thirst as I drink in the fullness of life.

Dry river beds…geometries of water and currents…swishes and bumps, last remnants of carved sand and stone. Spires reaching toward heaven, eroded from centuries of wind and water. Etched and worn. I feel like that today.

Arrival at the marina creates chaos…loading gear and casting off from land. People are in frenzy-mode setting up dive gear, camera gear. The rushing and intensity of this makes me want to crawl up on a warm rock and bake in the sun in solitude. Instead I find myself nearly tossed off my bunk from heavy seas. I set up only dive gear I might not even be able to use. Clothes are in drawers. Underwater camera equipment still locked in the hard case, unassembled and still in multiple pieces. I feel like that….little bits and pieces.This is not a nice sea this night. It is bumpy with waves over six feet and torrential rains and lightning.

I feel exhausted and unprepared for rough seas after being opened and laid bare by the Sonoran Desert.

What am I doing here? I feel exposed and the sea demands more. And it punches with heavy-handed blows and lightning that makes me yearn for safety. Somewhere around 3 a.m. I awaken to water pouring on my bunk and wonder if we are sinking. A quick trip down the hallway to the dive deck affirms we are still afloat and in a horrible storm.

The sea calls to the deepest, buried emotions within and they come out like the full force of the storm. I tell the Sea Mother, “You called and I showed up. What now?”

Mermaid Magic

By Simone Lipscomb | July 2, 2015

The week continued with three fun dives today that advanced my mermaid-in-training efforts. Each was different and all were fun.

First, the morning started out with a pre-dawn communion with the sea…and birds, iguanas, gnats and clouds. I felt a loved one I have not seen in over three years join me…at least in my mind and heart…and we watched the sun rise together. A full account of this morning can be found in the previous post.

SimoneLipscomb (19) — ***The current had much of the soft coral looking very bendy.***

Dive One was quite a surprise. Current that was crazy-strong was moving from the north to the south along the reef and it was very difficult to kick against it with The Beast (my large underwater camera housing and strobes). In reality, it would have been difficult without The Beast. It was probably the strongest current this mermaid-in-training has ever experienced in Bonaire. It reminded me of the current at Ginnie Springs…during river flood (when the usual cave flow is slower).

***New friends who played with this mermaid.***

On the second dive a couple of new friends and I started at a site about a quarter mile north and our intention was to drift to the condo complex where our group of 23 people is staying.

We entered the beautiful dive site and started our dive but to my dismay there was hardly any current. So it would be a long swim to our take-out point….a one-way journey. But luckily as we got closer to our destination the current started picking up and delivered us safely to our take-out point in 47 minutes. After another few minutes spent taking photos and such we were out of the water 51 minutes from our start point. There was a lot of kicking involved but we had a little help from the Ocean as it pushed us a bit at the end of our dive.

***The exit point after a quarter mile, one-way swim from out entry point.***

After a required mermaid rest, I returned to the water did another nice dive. But this time, the current was completely reversed. I turned north as it didn’t feel like any current was present but while diving realized the current had reversed and was pushing me so my swim back was a great workout.

Later I wondered what would have happened if the current had shifted during our one-way drift dive. That would have made for a very difficult and interesting swim.

The water temperature began at 81 degrees on Sunday and shifted later that day as the visibility decreased. Water was 79 degrees from Sunday afternoon until this afternoon (Wednesday) which made for a cold mermaid who had prepared for warmer water with a thin wetsuit. But as the current shifted, the water cleared and warmed up! So two more diving days with better visibility and warmer water is what this mermaid hopes for.

Tonight was a special treat as I dined with a family and the two girls are also mermaids in training, taking their first scuba classes this week. We talked of magic, mermaids and dragons. It was wonderful connecting with others who understand the magic of life.

Lessons for the day? 1) Keep my heart and mind open and keep love alive. 2) A little hard work is good for me but if I can go with the flow, instead of against the current, it’s always better. 3) Life, like the currents of the Ocean, can change completely within a few hours. 4) Always dine with other mermaids if possible as the conversation is infinitely interesting and enlightening.

Mermaid Practice…Everything’s Okay

By Simone Lipscomb | June 28, 2015

Crystal-clear, warm saltwater caressed my feet and legs. In the gray, pre-dawn light I stood allowing gentle waves to wash away worries, concerns, grief. The Ocean brought me into the present moment.

The morning ritual, while in my Ocean ‘home’ island of Bonaire, is to gather tiny bits of sea glass, tumbled from the constant irritation of sand and movement. It’s a small beach of honey-colored sand, so soft it made me smile with delight. The tinkling sound of bits of coral clinking together was music made by the Ocean…the soundtrack to my morning.

A dry and exposed wall of fossilized coral protected me from the strong and constant winds of this small desert island. I stood gazing into the water and felt someone looking back at me. My eyes scanned the water as movement within a few feet of me caught my attention.

SimoneLipscomb (33) — *This is NOT a photograph of a sea turtle…just a nice gathering of corals and sponges.*

There, at the edge of the coral and sand, was a small sea turtle. No more than 10 inches across, it was peeking out at me–a lovely little hawksbill turtle. Mermaid practice started early this morning. The lesson? Everything’s okay. In this moment, at this place…all is well. Time to take a break from planetary destruction, humanity’s hate/humanity’s fighting. Time to allow grief, of loved ones lost, pass into another dimension as the present moment embraced me with such beauty. A juvenile hawksbill friend reminded me of this with her intense gaze from her eyes to mine.

After breakfast I gathered dive gear and headed with my buddy down to the water. It felt magnificent to be submerged again, one with the Ocean, breathing on life-support that would allow me over an hour of communing with my brothers and sisters of the sea.

SimoneLipscomb (31) — *Friendly porcupinefish*

A friendly and large porcupinefish escorted me for the first half of the dive, looking back occasionally to see if I was still there. One time he circled back and waited for me when I stopped to look at two spotted moray eels tucked under a coral head. When I turned to head back to the exit point, the sweet, prickly friend waved a fin goodbye. I blew a farewell kiss.

An hour break to hydrate, eat and assemble The Beast–my Aquatica housing for my Nikon D-800 and two massive strobes. I think I should intensify my upper body workouts just to lift the gadgetry.

But once underwater, tools I had only dreamed of in the past became a reality. A big smile erupted from deep within me. This system…this beast of a system…was almost neutrally buoyant…just slightly negatively so. It handled like a dream and produced images with a fisheye lens that made me very happy…finally….I can create images that in some way do justice to the magnificent beauty of this realm, this Ocean of beauty where I find peace.

Before even reaching the drop-off on the reef, three friendly squid played with me and one especially like my dome port. It was a squid dance unequal to any I’ve had in the past. Sometimes they can be shy and evasive but these guys actually invited me to play.

And once again, the larger-than-life porcupinefish met me at our appointed time and posed for a couple of photographs before I turned to head back to dry land….a most challenging proposition for a mermaid-in-training.

Special thanks to my friends Will and Dolphi for helping me and The Beast into and out of the water. It’s a learning experience…accepting assistance and even asking for it (gasp!).

Dancing with Light and Clouds

By Simone Lipscomb | June 4, 2015

I awoke a little before 3am and wrote about a dream I had. Once I finished writing it was after 3.30am and sleep never returned. I heard rumbles of thunder in the distance and decided to get up, grab my camera and tripod and go to the beach for a stormy sunrise shoot. Our turtle team had a sea turtle nest to process later in the early morning hours so why not go early?

When I arrived at the beach it was as if a trapdoor opened and water poured from the sky. According to my radar app it wouldn’t last long so I waited and attached my tripod bracket to the camera as the rain passed through. I wore my GoreTex rain jacket to protect my camera if the heavy clouds offshore changed direction and headed my way.

It was barely light as I walked through wet sand. Lightning was streaking and touching the horizon but according to Spark, my lightning app, it was over 13 miles offshore. The light, clouds and smooth surface of the Gulf soon had all of my attention and I hurriedly attached camera to tripod and began a dance with light and clouds.

The orange-gold light in the eastern sky was softened by low clouds. To the south heavy clouds, nearly touching the surface of the water, created layers of grays, blues, whites with hints of orange. I’ve had friends shooting with me ask what settings I used to achieve certain results and its difficult for me to answer because I don’t think in terms of f-stops and shutter speed. I think about light and saturation of color. I feel the shot I want to capture and simply adjust my camera settings to achieve the emotion I want to share.

The artistry of photography, for me anyway, is to connect with a place or animal and notice the emotion I feel from the connection. From this connection I want to create an image that translates the connection…the emotion…to the photograph and ultimately to viewers.

I do not want to just take good photographs. The experience is why I do it…the connection draws me back to the same places again and again. I go deeper into the essence of the place and myself. I focus on the flow of energy between the place, animals that live there and self.

Dancing with light and color is much better than getting a full night of sleep.

Tilting at Windmills

By Simone Lipscomb | May 15, 2015

Pablo Picasso's Don Quixote — Pablo Picasso’s Don Quixote

“Do you see over yonder, friend Sancho, thirty or forty hulking giants? I intend to do battle with them and slay them. With their spoils we shall begin to be rich for this is a righteous war and the removal of so foul a brood from off the face of the earth is a service God will bless.” Thus spoke Don Quixote in the novel written in the early 1600’s.

Equipment removing tar mats from Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge Summer 2010

There are times when I feel very much like Don Quixote. He might not have doubted his sanity but I doubt mine as I work to bring light to the environmental issues facing all of us. It feels like an unrealistic, impractical or even impossible goal. It may be noble but sometimes it seems completely unrealistic and perhaps even delusional.

The goal I set for myself is to be a bridge between nature and humanity. A bridge that raises awareness, increases communication and ultimately helps human and non-human life.

I believe the only way to help the planet is to help humans connect with…fall in love with…nature. This love will create compassion, care and wise stewardship. But there are days when it just feels as if the windmills…or oil rigs…or congressmen…or CEO’s…..really are hulking giants that will continue to destroy our Ocean planet…no matter how many crazy people like me write, photograph, document, sing or raise awareness through positive action.

There is no Sancho friend on this journey with me so at times the journey seems lonely. Yet today, as I cycled through the backcountry of Gulf State Park, I was reminded that humans are a part of nature. Every plant, animal, insect…everything is connected like diamonds in a web. So therefore, I am never alone. And neither are you. Perhaps our greatest error is to think we are separate, alone, divorced from that which sustains us.

For the past nine years I have dedicated my life to working full-time to help people connect with nature through writing, photography and videography. Living off of retirement funds and investing in equipment, book publication and travel to document unique places or species and to present programs to anyone who will listen, I have many times doubted my sanity. Why not just relax and forget this work?

Because…..Love knows no boundaries. I came into this life to make a positive difference and even if I’m tilting at those proverbial windmills, at least I am doing something.

SimoneLipscomb (9) — Latest version of the cover of my new book

The past couple of days have been challenging and pesky doubts have arisen. But when I checked my mailbox today I had another partner for my new book, Manatee Mindfulness, with a note from my friend that said, “You’re doing great work Simone! Rock on!”

Perhaps I’m not delusional after all. I’m thankful for the reminder from sweet friends! And from nature that reminded me today of the web of life that connects all life to this Ocean planet. We are always connected, never alone.