Tag: nature

The Right Place

The Right Place

As a lover of the ocean and all wildlife therein and especially a lover of sea turtles, you might imagine how excited I was to complete the volunteer training to become a Share the Beach sea turtle volunteer. I had fantasies of walking the undeveloped beach at Gulf State Park and finding turtle tracks that would lead to a nests full of beautiful baby sea turtles as the sun rose each morning I worked.

But at the training I made this heart-felt commitment: Please use me wherever you need me. Any beach is fine. I am willing to go where I am most needed.

Still maintaining my pristine beach dream of sunrise bliss and later watching hatchlings crawl from the safety of the nest, down the trench I helped dig to the Gulf where they would swim into the moonlit ocean, I anxiously awaited the call to find out when I could begin. I was already giddy at the thought of all of this ‘nature’ filling my mornings and evenings.

My team leader contacted me this past weekend and I found out I was assigned to the stretch of beach from the city beaches to the state park. Condos, hotels, left-over trash from parties that isn’t cleaned up until sunrise…. I was bummed at first but my team leader was excited. “Nobody ever wants to work this beach.” So I knew that this beach was exactly where I need to be.

I supposed we all want the volunteer assignments that are beautiful and inspire us and thrill us with natural wonder. But the places that are most wounded, most trashed by drunk tourists, and the most over-developed places….those places need us. Specifically the mother loggerheads who come back to their home shore to lay their nests–not knowing it is now covered with beer cans or that concrete has become the new dune line since she was born there–need the help of people willing to walk among the garbage to save her tiny, precious eggs–some of the most endangered animals in the Gulf.

I now understand that sometimes the path put before me isn’t always one of easily-perceived beauty. My task is to find beauty where others don’t want to look and share it.

Where are you willing to serve–to help people, wildlife, wild places, domestic animals? How can you add your energy to making a positive difference in your community? If our world is going to change for the better it is going to take every one of us to make it happen.

Winds of Change

Winds of Change

The wind shifted this morning. The smell of marsh and swamp scented the air as I glided over clouds and glints of sunshine on the mirror-still water. My heart expanded to greet the osprey as she sat on her nest overhead. Fish popped the surface of the water creating ripples that reached out to me as I steered my board through liquid bliss.

It has been a windy week that included two days with such intensity in the blow I stayed off the water. But today, today…calm reigned.

Settling into my new home has given me opportunity to allow the new direction in my life to show itself in the placement of furniture, art and musical instruments. I have listened to an inner prompting to create a music room and in particular, an ocean music room. Besides my piano, guitars, banjo, ukelele, native flutes, drums and other instruments, all of the art work and all books in the room are about the ocean. There are images of dolphins, the Caribbean, the Gulf, orcas, herons and books on all subjects related to the ocean…from healing to science.

Tonight I sat at my piano and allowed music to pour out and as it did, I directed it to the ocean….the one world ocean…and all life contained within it. It felt like taking the time to consciously connect with the ocean and send healing thoughts and music to it was as important as the documentary work I have done since the oil spill. I sense the winds of change moving in my work. I’m not sure what the outcome will be but I trust that as I play my piano or guitars or my African drums I will be guided. Maybe the best each of us can do is consciously connect with our planet, with each other, and simply send love and compassion through our thoughts, music, writing, dance. Maybe healing the planet can begin that simply.

What do you think?

Prehistoric Paddling Pals

Prehistoric Paddling Pals

I don’t know why my newest paddling companions are gars. Lots of them. Every time I take my SUP board on the river I find gars surface near my board, grab a mouthful of air and quickly sink back to the dark depths of the water. I’m left going something like…”That was close,” or “GOOD MORNING!” I’m not scared of them but they often surprise me when I’m focused on my workout.

As the National Geographic photograph shows, these creatures have elongated jaws and LOTS of needle-sharp teeth. Some species can grow to lengths of over 10 feet. (gulp). My board is 12.6 feet long. And while I’m not scared of gars, I really have no desire to meet a 10 foot long fish with sharp teeth at 7am on the river. It just seems….unnecessary. Right?

While these fish can be intimidating, they really are quite amazing. They are largely unchanged over the past 100 million years and are often called living fossils. Their scales are so thick Native Americans fabricated arrowheads from them. They usually live in freshwater environments but can also live in brackish water.

While they have startled me when I’m lost in my paddle groove, I have come to look forward to encounters with them. They look at me or my board as they gulp air and then are gone. One day I met one of the biggest ones I’ve seen. He or she was probably five feet in length. Her scales were massive and she was laying on the surface of the water. The big fish didn’t hear me approach but when she saw me and/or my board, she was gone…POOF! I didn’t have any desire to become close personal friends but it was great seeing such an awesome fish.

Each morning I look for the osprey that are nesting along the shore. Today they were fishing, flying down the center of the river looking for breakfast. I saw the mallards and a kingbird. A brown pelican flew alongside for a while. I also look for gars and I didn’t see any during the first 2 miles this morning and I was disappointed. But luckily for me I saw two on the way back and they thrilled me with very close encounters.

Maybe I feel a little like a fossil trying to race my SUP board with kids in their 20’s. Being in the ‘over 50’ group I feel at a disadvantage physically. I have more limitations than my younger cohorts. However, what I lack in physical prowess I make up for in my mature outlook….”OH PLEASE LET ME FINISH AND PLEASE DON’T LET ME BE LAST!”

I’m getting stronger with my regular SUP workout and I am making new friends each day I spend on the river. To all my gar friends–thanks for saying hello and thanks for keeping your needle-sharp teeth off of my board! I’ll see you in the morning.

What’s Down is Up….or What My Mind Thinks of When SUP Boarding

What’s Down is Up….or What My Mind Thinks of When SUP Boarding

I gaze down into clouds, puffy and white, against a grayish blue sky. As I glide along, a rope stretches from the surface into the depths and I wonder if I climb down where I would find myself when I got to the end.

Suddenly a splash interrupts my reverie and the water’s surface ripples, disrupting the illusion, causing me to come back from Wonderful-Land and concentrate once again on my strokes. Yet inevitably, as the water returns to its mirror-like surface, my mind begins to dream of ways to access the world being reflected from above.

I think of this physical reality, this world of apparent solids and masses, as a mere reflection of what’s on the other side of this this realm. There’s so much more to life than what we see with our physical eyes….

I give my mind freedom to imagine, contemplate, go wherever it wants to go while I’m paddling. If it dreams of watery worlds that lay beyond the surface or enjoys the sensation of flying on watery clouds it’s fine with me. Alice had nothing on my mind’s ability to journey to wild places.

Imagine fish swimming in clouds and turtles sunning themselves upside-down. We create whatever world we wish….think about that. What would you create if given a blank canvas? What’s stopping you?

If you haven’t read my books or viewed my photos I invite you to visit my website and explore…enjoy. Turtle Island Adventures is where you’ll find all sorts of fun.

Green to Blue

Green to Blue

A few weeks ago I began to realize that I was leaving the mountains of western North Carolina. I mean really realize that my time here was growing short. As I explored my connection to the land, pulling on one thread of the tapestry of my life unraveled awareness that has helped me understand and prepare for the leap to big water.

About that same time, a friend of mine was having an art opening in downtown Asheville so I decided to attend. The night of the gallery reception I was chatting with my artist friend and a friend of his walked up with a musical instrument case. There was a Celtic music event around the corner at Firestorm Books that started in about an hour. It gave me time to walk next door and eat at Tupelo Honey, one of my favorite Asheville restaurants.

It was a small venue but the music….the MUSIC! Only in Asheville, I thought. One duo sang a song that touched the heart of my grief and almost perfectly described my move from mountains to shore. A few of the lyrics are below (here’s a link if you’d like to listen).

Don’t turn to the green hills of Antrim
Fermanagh’s behind you, it’s time to move on.
Look onwards to Glasgow, and all your tomorrows
The future lies there, and it’s waiting for you.
As the green crosses over to meet with the blue.

If the wings of the eagle could carry you over
To the lands of the prairie, then surely you’d fly
But an ocean so wide, and a distant country
So far from your own land is no place to die.

So don’t turn to look on the green hills of Antrim
Fermanagh’s behind you, it’s time to move on.
Look onwards to Glasgow, and all your tomorrows
The future lies there, and it’s waiting for you.
As the green crosses over, as the green crosses over,
To meet with the blue.

One morning as I approached my favorite view from the mountain, the green valley below unfolded surrounded by towering mountains that arose from the far side. The words from the chorus came singing through my soul: As the green crosses over to meet with the blue. And I thought of the Irish and Scottish people who were the first white settlers in this area and how they must have loved this land for it looks so similar to many places from their home countries. Then I thought about my own heritage and connection to Cornwall and the beauty of green hills stopping at the blue ocean and knew in that moment that my soul was calling me back to big water, to blue water. And I knew peace.

I am not sure what work will unfold for me along the Gulf Coast, but with everything I know and am, it is the exact right next step for my path, for me. Being land-locked for almost 20 years has served a purpose and now it’s time to go home.

My heart is big enough to love both mountains and ocean yet I have a strong desire to help the Ocean and all creatures who live in and around it. It’s geographically challenging to do that from 2300 feet above sea level, perched on the side of a mountain. I want to feel the sand between my toes, breathe the salt air and plant my roots once again in more southern latitudes where the vast expanse of the Gulf of Mexico calls me to my life’s work.

I won’t turn to look back on the green mountains, Asheville’s behind me, it’s time to move on. I look onwards to the Gulf and all my tomorrows, the future lies there, and it’s waiting for me. As the green crosses over to meet with the blue.

I launch April 3rd….it’s time to move on.

© Simone Lipscomb 2024