Nature Photography Archives - Page 113 of 116 -

A Living Shoreline

By Simone Lipscomb | March 28, 2013

On April 6th volunteers working with The Nature Conservancy, The Ocean Foundation, Restore Coastal Alabama, Alabama Coastal Foundation and Mobile Baykeeper will create another living shoreline at Pelican Point at the mouth of Weeks Bay. The area of Pelican Point has experienced significant habitat loss and erosion. This effort is part of a goal to restore 1000 acres of coastal marsh and seagrass.

What an amazing opportunity…restore a place to its original condition. That helps the fish, crustaceans, birds and people who live in and around it.

It made me think about opportunities we have as humans to restore ourselves. As we move through life we experience wounding. Much of this happens in childhood and it’s not necessarily intentional from those who hurt us. It happens. So we develop a story around our wounds and our entire life is choreographed by the story we have created around them. We come to identify almost completely with the wounds instead of who we really are.

For instance, if as a child you are constantly criticized, you might come to the conclusion that you are not good enough. So you weave a myth around this and draw experiences to you that tend to mirror this belief. Or maybe your parents were disappointed that you weren’t a boy…or a girl…or even that you were born. The story you weave could be that you were not wanted so you tell yourself that nobody really wants you for who you really are. Or if your parents divorce or a parent dies you might feel abandoned and carry this very deep storyline throughout your life and consistently ‘create’ situations in relationships where you are abandoned, rejected.

What if we identify our ‘original’ wounds and create a living shoreline within ourselves…we can restore ourselves to wholeness by naming the beliefs that eroded our lives.

With the Living Shoreline Restoration Project they are using over 20,000 blocks to build a reef. The concept is the same for us. We can rebuild our lives by re-writing our personal myth–the story we live by–and in essence change our lives.

What a different life a person could live if he believed he is smart and capable and worthy of love. Or that she is wanted and beautiful. Or that she can have a consistent and dependable relationship and be accepted by her partner. Wouldn’t that be worth the effort?

What if we think of ourselves as a living shoreline in need of repair and build on the beauty within us…that’s always been there. What would your new story be like? What would you use for building material? What is your happily-ever-after?

Details

By Simone Lipscomb | March 27, 2013

Courtyard bloomer...Image by Simone — *Courtyard bloomer*

I know I’m paying attention when I see the fine ‘hairs’ on the stems and petals of flowers. Or notice the grains of pollen resting on a petal after being released by a pollinator’s visit or a burst of March wind.

Ready to blossom...Image by Simone — *Ready to blossom*

I know I’m going slow enough when I see the details of life. For it is there that I realize and become aware of the depth of beauty around me.

Once a little green snake drank from a saucer of water my partner held for it. That moment of caring for such a small creature held such tenderness, such compassion. The details of daily moments, so precious. Such treasures.

When I allow myself to look deeper, to see with eyes of a student, nature has so much to share…to teach. Such loveliness to touch.

Orchid faces....always make me smile — *Orchid faces….always make me smile*

Orchids share their unique personalities with the details of their blossoms. Every opportunity I have to photograph them I feel lighter and happier. The faces I see in each blossom bring such joy.

Life is a little softer, a little kinder when I take time to notice the details and embrace the moments to interact with beauty that nature offers. Some of these experiences will remain in my heart throughout my life.

Chair of Surrender

By Simone Lipscomb | March 27, 2013

After two days of rather strenous yard work I found myself listening to a guided meditation this afternoon in a most excellent and comfortable chair in my office. Feet comfortably elevated, orange cat curled up in my lap, I was totally supported by this amazing chair. I relaxed and went into the place I call the drool zone. Usually it happens when I am on a massage table and am so relaxed that drool slips out of my open mouth. But today, it was in was in my home office which I have recently cleared out, rearranged and named my office temple.

While the name office temple might sound a bit strange, I view my photography and writing as closely aligned and interwoven with my spiritual practice. Until recently, my thoughts about the work were directed out into the world almost constantly. My grief and concern over the abuse of our planet and its creatures weighs heavily on me. Often I have such frustration that I’m not doing enough or the work I have done (i.e. books, photographs) isn’t making a difference, isn’t out there far enough. And so this outward directed energy pulls me further and further off balance and I get more anxious and upset at the plight of the world. It’s a vicious cycle.

Then, over the past week or so, I have realized that the work I am called to do right now isn’t so much about ‘out in the world’ but rather inside my own heart and mind. Like the cycling of the seasons, we have our own cycles of rest, action, going within, going out.

With the help of an amazing bodywork therapist I am going deeper within myself and rediscovering the importance of simply being. If I surrender completely, everything will be made known that I need to know. But especially, what I need to do. Acting before this guidance is received can be exasperatingly futile.

I’m not suggesting that we focus on ourselves in a selfish or self-centered way. I’m simply advocating an inward focus to listen for guidance, to connect with the love and passion that pulls us to the work we feel led to do. When we put that as our first goal, everything else falls into place. In the right timing.

Recently I had a colleague on the spiritual path tell me that I was trying too hard, in more than one area of my life. Relax and allow it to happen from your place of inner quiet and peace, I was told. And as I’ve thought of that sage advice, I have come to a place of surrender. Not just about my environmental work but with everything and everyone in my life. My frustration has lessened, my patience increased and expanded. (sigh)

*Statue in Bicentennial Park, Greensboro, NC*

Sitting in my chair of surrender, I feel completely supported, at ease and relaxed. From this place of total trust, I am assured that all will unfold exactly as it is intended to unfold. In the right time, in the right direction and with exactly the right companions.

Springing into Action

By Simone Lipscomb | March 26, 2013

It feels as if somebody lit a fire under me. Friday night I painted the bathroom adjoining my office. Saturday morning I painted the guest bathroom and Saturday afternoon I went to a DIY store and purchased plants, then planted the herbs and impatiens and coleus in the courtyard. Sunday morning I did a four mile SUP board paddle at a cruisin’ pace, came home and then went back to my favorite DIY stores and purchased more plants, pieces and parts for my experimental vertical garden and assembled it, and planted the containers. Today I went to Pensacola and purchased groceries at my favorite healthy food co-op, came home raked leaves until I was exhausted, went back to the DIY store and purchased a leaf blower (I caved….couldn’t handle all the leaves with one rake and one body pushing it), came home…put the blower together and used it to blow leaves until almost sunset, then cleaned out the potting shed and organized it, hung two hanging basket brackets and assembled the baskets and hung them. And I wonder why my desk is getting buried. Oh, and I washed and dried three loads of clothes somewhere in the midst of those three days.

Today a book I purchased on-line, Finding Florida: The True History of the Sunshine State arrived. All 500+ pages. When I fall asleep reading it, it will most likely give me a mild concussion (hardcover edition). But with my desk needing attention it’s doubtful the book will capture my attention too soon. Here’s a random quote from the book: “I would have been a rich man, if it hadn’t been for Florida.” Henry Flagler, on his Florida expenditures. I might say that same quote but delete the word Florida and insert…Lowes and Home Depot.

The changing of the season has ushered in some powerful energy to help clear out the old and create new places of beauty. I’m following the urge to spring into action.

To Be a Bromeliad Farmer….or Vulture Goddess?

By Simone Lipscomb | March 24, 2013

This is NOT representative of this morning's behavior from my darlings. — *This is NOT representative of this morning’s behavior from my darlings.*

I awakened to soft thuds overhead. Cat play on carpet. I had been dreaming of a white vulture soaring overhead and waked in the middle of the dream. I lay there half awake wondering the meaning of such an unfamiliar symbol. Heady thoughts so early in the morning and soon interrupted by the thundering of cats down the stairway.

Gracie practiced her balance beam act on the footboard while Stanley practiced his gymnastic moves above me on the headboard. The hawk screeching outside my home and the combined acrobatics of my cat companions called me to get up and check the weather forecast.

Last night I read where high winds were predicted for today so when it was quiet outside I literally ran to put on my SUP boarding shorts and shirt and was out the door before coffee. I could smell the salt marsh far upriver so the wind announced itself with gentleness, prior to anything more than a whisper. By the time I reached the downriver side of Bemis Bay the ripples began. As I rounded the corner at Washer Woman’s Point, I saw and felt the beginnings of the ‘serious’ wind…but that wasn’t what really caught my attention.

Perched on a cypress tree was a beautiful vulture, wings spread, heart facing the morning sun. Her wing feathers were white and so I remembered the dream. But I had the rest of my four mile paddle to complete and lucky for me, had a downwinder on the way back up river.

My experimental wall garden..the 2 x 4 will be painted once it is dried — *My experimental wall garden..the 2 x 4’s will be painted once they are dry*

The rest of the day was spent putting together a project I’ve been dreaming of for weeks–designing and building a system to grow veggies and herbs on the east side of my home. Literally…on my home. It’s very sunny there, while the rest of my yard isn’t and the garage gets very hot in the summer so I wanted to install some sort of green wall to see if it would keep my garage from boiling during July and August.

*My new bromeliad friends make the courtyard an even happier place*

I would rather grow flowers because I simply have a thing for them. But my farmer genes nudge me to try my hand once again at growing food. My dad and grandfather would probably laugh at my vertical garden. And honestly, I bought more flowers—some outrageous bromeliads. I can’t help it. Can’t I live off of beauty? Do I really have to eat?

All through the day of building, possibly cursing at trying to hold 8 foot 2 x 4’s up while screwing them into the wall, attaching the boxes, planting the plants into the boxes….I kept thinking about the white vulture. When I finished my farmer-girl activities I ran upstairs and looked up ‘white vulture’ on my trusty internet search engine.

It is a symbol of the feminine in Egyptian mythology. In Pueblo mythology it is a symbol of restored harmony that had been broken. It is a symbol of the return of the self. (Pause…..and repeat please).

Photo of me probably 17 years ago.... — *Photo of me probably 17 years ago….*

How appropriate. How perfect. Since my father’s illness and death (when I was 21) I have been in a series of relationships with no gap between them. Recently I have done some deep healing as I find myself alone for the first time in 32 years. And I wanted to be alone as I found myself repeating the same old patterns. Sick of myself, I journeyed out on my own to heal. To grow. I couldn’t repeat the familiar behaviors anymore. It was deadening.

At this almost year mark of my time with only me and my baggage, I find myself dreaming of white vultures and realizing that I am discovering who I am…I had never given myself space or time to figure that out and in some ways had remained the wounded young woman throughout my relationships. How appropriate that in my time of conscious healing, the goddess of feminine energy pays me a dreamtime visit.

After all these years I am finally healing the old wounds. I have no idea where this new-found wholeness will take me but I’m guessing it has something to do with growing flowers or morphing into a vulture….once I figure it out I’ll let you know.