Nature Photography Archives - Page 106 of 116 -

Welcome to the World Baby Turtles

By Simone Lipscomb | July 19, 2013

It was a glorious afternoon. I arrived at the nest we had been watching at 4.30pm and listened with the stethoscope. One 20 second cascade of sand was heard with some crawling sounds. Over an hour later…same. And on it went for hours. Checking only once an hour and thinking the turtles were resting…but that moon might just enliven them….a girl can hope, right?

In the meanwhile one of our team members refined the trench two had dug the day before. The trench helps the turtles from wandering to porch lights, condo lights and acts as a guide for their long crawl to the beach…which is especially long since the beaches were renourished, refurbished…whatever they call it. It is a very long crawl for such tiny tots. In crowded, light-polluted areas it gives the newborns their best chance at making it to open water.

The especially loooong crawl to the water....the trench helps with the light pollution experienced on our beaches. — The especially loooong crawl to the water….the trench helps with the light pollution experienced on our beaches.

Even though my shift was officially over at 9pm I had an intuitive hunch to stay around a while. At 10pm one of our folks checked and heard very active babies. They had awakened and were busy crawling up in their nest. When I last listened at 11pm it was a constant cascade of sand…so much so that I couldn’t believe we had not had some change in the surface. Just after listening I looked and saw a very small lip of sand had formed…no greater than 1.5 inches on one side of the nest. When a friend and fellow turtle-lover joined us from her home on the beach I asked her to re-check the nest at 11.20pm. In just a few moments she was excitedly saying….hurry!! They are coming!!

Because the sand was perfectly dry and fluffy, there wasn’t a big crater until they boiled. And boil they did…..delightful loggerhead hatchlings.

I squatted just outside the nest and watched as these little darlings used the steep incline as a slide. It was perfectly beautiful, perfectly precious. I sang Happy Birthday, Happy Trails and wished them well….my usual softly-delivered welcome-to-the-world-angels speech.

Hatchling from 2012. We cannot use any lights/flashes, etc when a hatching is happening. This one was from an excavation early evening last year.

While other humans were in front of TV’s or in bars or perhaps doing some job they hate in a place they like less, a sacred gift was bestowed on all who braved the late hour to witness one of nature’s miracles. I would not trade those hours for anything I know.

During the middle of the hatching, when there was a momentary lull in the action, I checked the nest and one baby was very still under a lip of sand. After all the others had vacated and were happily (hopefully) swimming in the sea, I kept tabs on the sleepy baby. A cascade here and there as well as crawling sounds were still happening and soon another baby slid down the sand slide to begin her march to the beach. There was one active baby that ‘swam’ up in the sandy nest that actually crawled over to the resting sibling and nudged her awake. Then together they took their miraculous journey to the saltwater…the journey that reverberates with healing metaphors that offer wisdom to all who are open to the teachings.

Arriving home near 3am I found myself once again feeling in sync with nature, with the cycles of life and the hope that is always birthed with a sea turtle nest exploding into life.

Leaping

By Simone Lipscomb | July 16, 2013

I was tired and had already been in my car too long running errands earlier in the day but something pushed me out of my comfy chair in my peaceful home. I grabbed my tripod and camera and only one lens….the glorious little beastie, the Nikon 14-24 2.8.

There wasn’t a lot of color in the sky when I arrived at the beach but soft hues create gentle images so I played around under the pier and then headed east, away from condos and into undeveloped shoreline.

Maybe 500 yards from the pier I came upon a loon. Not a human dressed in black socks and sandals sporting a hawaiian shirt drinking beer and littering cans all over the beach…a real loon. The bird. Specifically a Common Loon.

She was sitting on the lip of the sand, just out of reach of the water. Loons cannot walk because their legs are so far back on their bodies. They are diving birds and spend most of their time in the water, only coming on land for nesting. (This particular one was a juvenile…which I’m still puzzling about since they typically don’t nest here but back to the story).

The bird was alert, appeared uninjured and was tolerant but wary when I slowly approached. There was no blood or indications of any problems except the obvious one–she was not in the water. She just anxiously looked at the water and then back at me. I understand that look of longing and could feel her desire to be back in her element.

It was almost dark and concerned that coyotes would make a meal out of the grounded bird, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Nobody was available to come check on her. But heck, I thought, I used to be the state park naturalist here, I can help this bird. I worked with all kinds of birds here in the 80’s.

The beaks are very sharp but I didn’t want to handle the bird anyway. Like I used to teach scuba students, self-rescue is always best. So I spotted a large piece of styrofoam down the beach and retrieved it. It was very bright white and my loony friend had an intense dislike of it. So much so that as soon as I approached, even very slowly, she decided to make a break for the water…never mind that she really couldn’t walk. With a burst of energy she pushed herself toward an oncoming wave, shot out a trail of poop and was out past the breakers before I could understand what just happened. She rescued herself with a little coaching from me. My guess is that with the rough water she was swept onshore while fishing inside the sand bar.

The last time I saw her she was frolicking (really…I’m NOT kidding) out past the breakers and taking a much-needed saltwater bath.

I suppose we all need a little encouragement to go for what we really long for sometimes. When and why do we take action? My suspicion is the fear of staying stuck becomes greater than the fear of leaping.

To all those awaiting a Universal sign to leap…..maybe today is the day!

Message in a Bottle

By Simone Lipscomb | July 14, 2013

Perhaps the biggest and worst surprise of my life is that the relationship with a good man–with whom I thought I’d spend the rest of my life–dissolved…ended. I haven’t seen him in more than a year and the ghosts of who we were, when we were happy together, roam the corridors of my heart.

One of my strongest desires in this life is to have a life partner with whom to grow and play and with whom a strong bond of love will carry us through changes, trials and challenges. And yet….here I am with this heart full of love not knowing what to do with it. When a relationship ends, especially if it ends amicably, where does the love go?

It’s not like I sit around and whine and cry and gnash my teeth. Nothing like that. Life is good for me. I laugh, have fun, enjoy life. Yet I long for a partner–a spiritual, emotional, playful, fun-loving partner. So I’ve been diving deep within myself lately and doing the work on myself and asking, ever so gently, for this partnership to arrive…when the time is right.

Yesterday was spent painting my bedroom and bathroom a most beautiful, soothing color to brighten the center of my home. This soft color and lighter drapes give a fresh, open feel to my space. All day long I painted with the intention to let go of anything holding me back from being fully open to love flowing within my heart…within my being. Within my life. To dissolve all internal barriers that keep love from me. As I told my husband before we parted, “I’m not going out there looking for love. It will have to find me.”

This morning as I was walking the beach during my sea turtle nest patrol I saw a square bottle that had just washed onshore. As I walked to it I noticed paper inside. WOW! I thought, A real message in a bottle.

I stuck it in my pack and continued my walk. Savoring the mystery, waiting until the time was right to sit and open it, was my plan.

Breakfast with turtle friends at the beach, a drive back to the house and as I scurried to get a shower before meeting more friends in Fairhope, the bottle caught my attention. Oh! I forgot you, I said. I had a few minutes to spare so I sat with it.

I uncorked it and carefully began removing the contents. A sweet perfume filled the air. The first thing I unrolled was a Maya Angelou poem. Next came a Yin-Yang symbol with hearts in the swishes. Then a tiny photograph of a home on the beach. The final item was larger and quite tightly-rolled and stuffed into the bottle. I didn’t want to damage it so it took a bit of engineering but I finally got it out. It was a prayer–a beautiful prayer–that was obviously part of a wedding ceremony. Or life commitment ceremony.

As the beauty of the intention came into focus I thought back to a prayer I said at my altar just yesterday morning before staring my home transformation: When the time is right please bring my partner to me. And then I let it go after saying a BIG thank-you.

The strength of the couple’s love deeply touched me. Their message was to God and somehow at 5.45am this morning it was directed to me. And that was a God-thing, too. Anything could have been in the bottle….but this prayer, this lifting of hearts to Source was exquisite and sacred. And affirming.

The right man will arrive when the time is right. That came in loud and clear when the Universe sent me a message this morning….in a bottle no less. This treasure will serve as a reminder of great things yet to come. I am already deeply grateful.

Isn’t life amazing?

The Pause Between Breaths

By Simone Lipscomb | July 11, 2013

As I was driving back from a photography session of family portraits on the Ft Morgan peninsula, I noticed the sky was looking especially inviting. Hopeful that the Shell Banks area of Mobile Bay would provide a nice vantage point, I excitedly nudged the accelerator until I saw the pull-off.

Sky conspired with water to offer a most pleasant and relaxing half hour of nature’s fine beauty. In times like these I find myself relaxing into the present moment, open to receiving the gifts nature offers and I lose myself to photography…to connecting with the essence of water and sky and light through my camera.

The magic hours of sunrise and sunset often have bountiful blessings and such sweetness. These gifts are found when I take the time to stop, breathe and open myself to the moment.

Present moment….sacred moment. Holy moment. Beautiful moment…found in the silence and stillness between breaths.

The Good Stuff Moves Closer

By Simone Lipscomb | July 7, 2013

The past three weeks have been incredibly difficult but I’m not whining. Simply stating a fact. The frustration has been centered around my work. Some days I have considered drawing a bullseye on the wall to give a target for head-banging.

Since I began documenting the BP Deepwater Horizon oil spill over three years ago, I have felt pressure to work hard to make a difference in the world. That’s always been my intention but since witnessing the devastating effects on wildlife and human life, I have been almost frantic to help raise awareness of what humans are doing to the planet.

This year I’ve been feeling the importance of documenting nature’s beauty as a way to increase passion and concern but with the same push–the panic thought that time is short, we are losing this beauty!

I’ve felt stuck lately…more than three weeks of stuck-ness. Months of it. I feel my work…the images and words….exist in a small circle of people. Appreciative and grateful people…but I’ve wondered if what I’m doing makes a difference. And the more I did, the more it felt as if I were treading ‘water’ in mud.

Two weeks ago I decided to let go and see what happened. This coincided with a question posed to me.

Each morning I light a candle, do a dedication and say a prayer. One day I specifically said, “Would you PLEASE show me what you want me to do?” Immediately and with a rush of force I heard, “What do YOU want to do?”

I stood astounded as my inner voice faded. Oh…so if I’m doing what I enjoy, it will be my best and most creative work and therefore fulfill my purpose. From that day on I have asked myself, “What do I want to do?” All through the day my work unfolds and when I focus on my website or do graphic design, or go on photography shoots it is effortless. It flows.

For the first time in many, many years I’m learning to relax and rest. When I work now it comes from my heart, not from a mental effort to push forward, to do, to make a difference, to work, work, work….because I have believed that it’s not okay to take up space unless I’m contributing. My mind loves to create things for me to do to justify my existence. But the fact is, that’s really not how it works. The more pressure I apply, the less I felt truly free to create my life’s work.

As I have stopped pushing and started breathing….living, the joy has returned. My work flows when I am in a creative mood and without the heavy hand I was using on myself, I feel lighter and more at peace than I have been since the oil spill occurred.

Joy, pleasure, happiness felt foreign to me since witnessing the spill and its effects. Slowly, I’m freeing myself from the self-imposed prison of my inner task master. As I do this the good stuff moves closer….I can FEEL it! My body vibrates with the goodness that has been waiting just out of reach. All it needed was a receptive spirit.

I am grateful.