Tag: Nature’s Teachings

My Wild Heart Sings

My Wild Heart Sings

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I arrived at the designated beginning point for my sea turtle patrol twenty minutes early–that’s 5.10am. The last time I was scheduled to patrol it stormed like crazy and even two hours of sitting in my car begging it to stop lightning didn’t change the fact that I missed my search for sea turtle tracks and also missed the quiet morning I enjoy so much when I walk the beach as a Share the Beach Sea Turtle volunteer.

But today was amazing. Clouds from a distant thunderstorm created beautiful artistry in the pre-dawn sky so I set up my tripod and spent 20 minutes shooting time-exposures of saltwater, clouds, reflections…everything a photographer dreams of.

By the time it was light enough to see tracks on the beach, it was a little after 5.30am. I ran my tripod back to the car and began my walk.

I stopped briefly two times, once to check a potential crawl and another time to snap a couple photographs. I moved on and had barely gotten into my patrol area when I found a sea turtle crawl.

I followed alongside the track and found a huge body pit where the mama loggerhead had most definitely labored. I then glanced over to make sure there was a return track and was shaking as I pulled my phone out to call our team leaders. I am good in emergencies and keep a cool head with stressful situations but it took a lot of focus to manage to find the number and call. “I think I have a nest Bonnie!” What I wanted to say was…“OH MY GOD!! SEA TURTLE, SEA TURTLE, SEA TURTLE!!! NEST, NEST, NEST!!!” But I managed to sound a bit more controlled…well…maybe.

The hardest thing was I had to finish the walk which meant another mile or so down the beach to check for other tracks. Some areas get more than one turtle laying per night. So after giving the location to one of my team leaders, I took several photographs and hurriedly walked the rest of my patrol in the early-morning humidity.

If I could have sprouted wings on my feet, I would have to get back to the nest. While finishing the walk my phone rang with the team ‘announcement’ that we had a nest and we needed people to come assist. The mother had run into three beach chairs that caused her to veer off her track and then came into a wooden ‘fence’ of chaise lounge chairs pushed together. She simply stopped there after making a spiral or circular crawl and then dug and laid her eggs very close to the wrack line of the beach. Far too close for safety for the eggs.

When this happens, we are permitted through our training and supervision of our team leaders, we move the nest. Many measurements, GPS location, and data has to be recorded for USFW Service as these are endangered turtles. And we have to have the nest moved and finished before 9am.

After preliminaries, we began a very long effort to find the eggs. The mother loggerhead lays them in a small pit hollowed out by her back flippers. The body pit she left was quite large and with her confusion over lawn chairs and the wooden loungers, she didn’t orient her body in the normal position. But finally, after one hour and 15 minutes, one of our guys discovered the top egg. And this after many of us carefully removed sand handful by handful until we were tired and very sweaty.

The bottom of the pit was 24 inches deep and there were 124 apparently healthy eggs. We had our turtle bucket with its layer of moist sand on the bottom and carefully and lovingly lifted them and placed them gently to await their new nest which was replicated as to size and shape further up the beach near the dune line.

I can share the statistics and the specifics about the nest which some might find interesting. But for me, this event was a light that shined on me just when I needed it.

Over the past couple of weeks I have struggled with frustration and grief over what we are doing to this planet. The more I immerse myself in the hands-on environmental work I’m committed to doing, the more difficulty I have keeping a positive, upbeat outlook. When a mile and a half walk on the beach yields three bags of trash every time I walk it, it begins to make me dislike humans for the arrogance, the selfishness. As I read about environmental challenges happening all over the planet, I get upset.

But I made a promise to stay informed and stay engaged with what is happening to our beautiful Gaia…our Earth. This is my life’s work, this is what I commit my talents and skills to, so to not stay engaged isn’t an option.

Being part of a team of people who passionately love a species that is so precious and beautiful is healing for me. The dedication of people who care–who are willing to give up sleep and meals and sweat a lot just to have an opportunity to help these endangered animals–moves me deeply.

I am now the human mom of 124 eggs that will hopefully emerge as little points of light…loggerhead light…that will grace our Gulf and the Caribbean with ancient instinctual wisdom that many humans can learn from and become a tiny bit wiser from the connection, the interaction.

The heaviness has lifted, the dark cloud dispersed as I have been blessed to work with a group of humans that DO care enough to help a mother turtle who was blocked from performing her task of laying eggs, near the dunes, on a beach in coastal Alabama. A task hindered by other humans ignorant of the plight of sea turtles and their habits.

All who love this beautiful planet must work daily, each in our own way, to help it and all creatures and humans who call it home. This is our greatest task.

What have you done today to help the planet? I’d love to hear your story.

Diary of a Wild Heart–Part Seven

Diary of a Wild Heart–Part Seven

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One of the things I love about diving Bonaire is the house reef in front of resorts is always a great place to dive and its one I can do solo and feel comfortable.

(Before I proceed let me assure my mother that solo diving as an instructor is something we do every time we take new students into the water and actually diving without four new divers is safer than diving with them. And…I stay at 35 feet of depth or less and take extra safety precautions…and yes, there’s actually a speciality for solo diving).

No other divers were nearby as I slowly moved through the water. Being by myself yet surrounded by the immensity of ocean life is soul food for me. As I glided along, a hawksbill sea turtle was foraging for breakfast, I was foraging for beauty.

Ocean creatures constitute an amazing community of life. The coming and going, the territories, cleaning stations, hiding, defending, hunting together–all of this demonstrates a most effective and efficient community. Each time I journey into these well-organized societies  I celebrate the instinctual wisdom demonstrated. And I always wonder why humans can’t learn from these marvelous cooperative neighborhoods. It was a good way to begin to bring the week of diving to a close.

The next morning our entire group decided to dive together so we headed south from the condo. We had entered the water and were making our way out to Tori’s Reef. My dive buddy and I had dropped down on the reef as had two guys a short distance from us. Just as we dropped over the edge of the reef I heard squeaking and whistles. I excitedly began looking around.

Three groups of four or five dolphins swam past, within 8 to 10 feet of me. I was screaming in excitement through my regulator and clapping my hands. So much for remaining calm underwater. In the last group that swam by the large dolphin closest to me turned over on his back and drifted by looking at me while swimming upside down. I couldn’t contain my joy! And so caught up in the moment was I, I forgot to take photographs of these amazing friends with the exception of one rather blurry one of their tails as they swam past.

I have been to Bonaire many times and this was the first time I saw dolphins. They brought a special gift to me, one that I am still unwrapping in my heart and mind.

During the first dive of the day I had so much grief surface about planetary destruction. I remember looking at tiny fish and crustaceans, sponges and corals and wept into my mask at the violence humans have done to the planet and each other. After the dolphins swam away I allowed those feelings of sadness their space but allowed them to be surrounded by the joy and happiness the dolphins evoked within me. I was so grateful, so frustrated, so joyful and sad all in the same moments as I glided along.

So in love with the ocean was I, in touch with life in a deep way. This depth of passion and emotion is what pulls me forward to continue the environmental work I feel called to do. The only way to proceed through the trying times–times of frustration, sadness and anger–is with an open heart. The pod of dolphins opened my heart. Only through love can I do the ‘Work’ and visit places that are polluted and damaged, deeply injured by humans. That is the only resource strong enough to see all of us through who have dedicated our lives to helping this water planet heal.

My wild heart was nurtured the entire week I was on Bonaire. From my time there I came back renewed and ready to do the ‘Work.’ May it continue…for all of us on this path.

Diary of a Wild Heart–Part Six

Diary of a Wild Heart–Part Six

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I gazed out over the green-blue-indigo water and felt my soul resonate with it completely. Waves of color reverberated through me and in response, my connection to the sea was strengthened. I wanted to know the secrets, the mystery of my soul and the journeys it has traveled and experienced. I longed to feel the wisdom rise up within me and illuminate my path.

Entering the water before sunrise was a primal experience for me. Feeling the cool, salty kiss of the sea before the heat of the day began was a gift I wanted to bestow upon myself.

As I floated weightless on the surface, the sun peeked through the palm trees and bathed me in golden light. The clouds were golden, the water sparkled with gold flecks and ripples and I merged into that silent place of deep gratitude. I swam in swirling circles of light and play and frolicked joyfully. Ocean love….ocean bliss.

The couple I had a brief encounter with a couple days before arrived as I swam and left before I got out of the water. She had helped me find sea glass and gifted them to me one day but never spoke a word–she just smiled at me. They exited the water,  on this day, and I noticed she stayed on the beach after he left but I didn’t think much about it.

After swimming I collected a bit of trash–wire, a bottle cap and some sea glass. As I walked up the stone steps I noticed a brown, dried circular leaf on the step. On it was several pieces of sandy sea glass, carefully arranged. It stopped me completely and literally in my tracks. I’m not sure I’ve ever received a gift so appreciated, so precious–so completely thoughtful.

I felt completely humbled and opened by this beautiful gift, so thoughtfully and freely given. I felt tears well up inside of me.

I walked back to the condo and shared my experience with the couple and the gift she had left me and salty tears rolled down my cheeks. This gift emerged from a heart connection we felt even though she and I never spoke a word to each other. Our hearts understood each other. Our souls shared a deep love of the Ocean.

The gift appeared to be a small leaf with tumbled bits of sea glass; however, the true gift was the hope in humanity this gentle, loving couple restored to me. For that, I am forever grateful.

Dairy of a Wild Heart–Part Five

Dairy of a Wild Heart–Part Five

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I sat in a tidal pool after finishing the last dive of the day. The sun was setting the clouds assured a stunning sunset. Still in my wetsuit, I plopped down and sat in the bubbling Ocean as it washed over coral rock. The sunset was magnificent and everything a nature-lover could want–saltwater, beautiful sky, sunshine and warm air–was present.

As I stood up after completing my tidal jacuzzi, I noticed an eel had entered into the shallow pool and was hunting. I was concerned it was trapped so I pointed at it to encourage it to leave and head back to open water before becoming stranded.

With mouth open, the chain moray leapt toward my outstretched finger causing me to run backwards through the tidal pool. Luckily I didn’t trip on any of the coral rock nor did I get a nasty eel-mouth bite. I learned something valuable–eels can leap out of the water and scare silly humans who think they’re doing eels a favor.

When I don’t understand something, it doesn’t mean that it’s wrong. I wish the human species could get this truth on a deeper level. Maybe we wouldn’t harass each other so much.

Beauty Expanding

Beauty Expanding

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I left the house at 5.30am, destined for the Gulf beaches. A short 20 minute ride later I was standing at Gulf State Park watching the sun rise over the sugar-white dunes. An hour spent walking this undeveloped beach started my day off in a state of beauty. Clear blue-green water lapping at my feet, warm breeze blowing from the southwest bringing salty air from across the water onshore. This balmy hug created a joy within me and so I left the beach ready for breakfast and more beach time. I had an appointment at 11am with a special someone.

After breakfast overlooking the Gulf, I motored down to Alabama Point, another part of Gulf State Park, and sat on the beach for about thirty minutes. I got out my pad and wrote a few notes….

“Sitting on snow-white sand watching blue-green waves roll onshore. A school of medium-sized fish are jumping and leaping about 50 yards offshore. My mind moves to wonder…what is chasing them?

A sanderling wanders toward me from the west and just east of me a family has arrived. The little boy ran to the water with his mask and has already called for a net so he can catch fish he is seeing. I don’t understand the need to capture and control nature. Isn’t it enough to be a quiet observer? This has been a struggle throughout my life…why must we dissect, catch, control all the beauty surrounding us? Why can’t we appreciate beauty for its own sake without destroying it?

Ten feet from my foot the sanderling rests on a mound of sand preening in this early morning sun. Running brown and white speckled feathers through her beak she glances over at me occasionally and then she is done and scurries off to peck among the seaweed for tasty breakfast morsels.

The sand is still cool from the night’s respite. Starlight is still embedded in the crystalline sand. It lingers as the heat of our golden sun star warms it and imbues it with wild, hot solar energy.

An osprey is gliding overhead, freshly caught fish tucked streamline under her white belly feathers.”

And onward to Gulf Islands National Seashore.

I stopped for water and then visited this narrow strip of sand that is surrounded by the Gulf of Mexico on one side and the bay on the other. Nine a.m. and I still had two hours before my appointment back at Alabama Point so I meandered through blue sky, blue-green water and white sand beauty that continued to expand from my sunrise walk. It felt as if the amount of salt water-induced bliss was getting out of hand. It was glorious and wonderful and the best was yet to come. I still had to meet Freddie.

One final stop at the National Seashore to breathe in a nearly perfect water and sky-scape and it was time to leave for the meeting.

Many of us had been summoned to this gathering at 11am. A special guest was arriving and we wanted to be there to see her off.

Freddie had been in rehab a few months, rescued from the pass at Alabama Point. She (or he…the sex was unknown) had been found floating, unable to submerge due to an intestinal blockage and other issues. After being assisted medically, this loggerhead sea turtle was ready to be returned to the Gulf, not far from where she had been found ailing.

Once our volunteers and the NFWS had gathered and the media had arrived, the walk to the water began. It’s probably the most exciting steps I’ve ever walked. Not just because Freddie was returning back to the Gulf but because so many humans cared and were there to cheer her on. Beauty…it was indeed expanding and not only in the outer scenery but in the hearts I saw wide-open surrounding this precious ocean friend.

Freddie crawled from the place her bearers placed her. She got to the water’s edge and stopped. The sand was moist and wet with surf but she just stopped. People formed two lines on either side of her and left the pathway to the water open. Even as I write this tonight, hours after the release, I have to pause and catch my breath. Tears come again as I reflect on the beautiful souls there to welcome her home.

She waited and watched, looking at children and adults cheering her on and finally a wave washed over her. She lifted her head in recognition of the glorious saltwater and who knows what else….for sea turtles don’t share their innermost thoughts. As I knelt on the sand taking photographs I saw in her eye a spark, a light that ignited as the wave called her home. And then….she scurried into the water.

I know what it feels like to come home, to have been away healing, learning….and to find myself back on my home beach watching a sea turtle crawl back into her home….there are no words. There truly are no words. All I know is this–I, too, am home.