My Nikon had been sitting on my desk since the Florida Springs dive trip. I felt so bad for it, all alone…waiting for a play date, I decided to do my Sunday morning beach walk this morning since Sunday was rained out. It was before 5am when I ran upstairs and grabbed my camera and tripod. Cool. The tripod bracket is already on the camera. That will save time.
When shooting sunrise, I like to begin while it’s still completely dark. With long exposures very nice effects result. About half way to the beach I wondered why my tripod bracket was on the camera. When did I use the tripod? Not on the dive trip. Hmmm.
The sky was still subdued but there were pink clouds mocking me as I hurriedly drove the last few curves on Highway 135. By the time I ran to the water’s edge most of the pink was gone. Whatever, I’ll just do some long exposures with the rough water…that will be nice.
When I attempted to attach my camera to the ball head on my tripod I noticed the plate on my camera was actually for my underwater housing….NOT the tripod. Well just freak.
I played with purposely moving the camera and had such fun.
Not to be deterred, I started shooting and balancing the camera on the tripod for long exposures and they did okay. No big deal…just not as long as I wanted.
About 10 minutes into the shoot I realized I hadn’t cleared my memory card…my large memory card that was nearly full. And for some reason, Lightroom and my D800 don’t play nice when I don’t want to import everything on the card. And with images that are very large in size….jeez. I didn’t want to even think about the fussing that would go on between the Adobe product, the Apple product and me later. Gawd. Next time I think about shooting, I’ll pack everything the night before….duh.
Too late now. Light was brightening and that’s not what I want when playing with motion and color and wide angle.
I finally had enough concrete and geometric fluffy water shots so put my tripod in the car. I could at least get in a good walk on the beach.
The rough water of the past few days had deposited huge amounts of plants from Mobile Bay along the beaches. I felt bad about leaving my usual trash bag at home for collecting garbage but there was so much plastic and other human-created debris I could have filled up a pick-up truck…or small dump truck. (I did remove plastic bags and a mylar balloon….deadly items for sea turtles and other animals that might eat it).
Regardless, I played with my 14-24mm lens. Each time I use it I remember how much I enjoy the lens…its beautiful crispness, the ability to get very close to objects for interesting wide angle shots. It was a sweet reminder.
I could have given up after leaving my bracket at home or paused to erase (one-by-one) the many photographs from diving weeks ago so I wouldn’t lose the ones already taken this morning….but then missed the perfect light. However, I worked with the circumstances that presented and came away with not only a nice walk and a few good images, but with a valuable reminder: Work with what I have, celebrate the day regardless.
Perhaps too often I allow the glitches of the day define the day. No need to do that. Keep squeezing the day for every bit of sweetness I can find.
The route has been the same for a few years now. If I time it right, the orange orb rising over the swamp greets me as I traverse the cross-over trail. And if I’m really lucky, there is mist hovering over the area. I am a creature of habit.
Now there are many new trails over previously inaccessible areas. And the Gulf of Mexico wonders where I’ve been all these months. Where did you go? she whispers in Her waves as they kiss the shore.
So many choices now. Which way to go?
First, I answer Her call. Straight to salt water before the sun arises from slumber. Sometimes She is rowdy and throws Herself on white sand and other times She is metallic turquoise and barely moves, containing her energy. But every day Her voice whispers advice or leads me deeper into silence.
And then the sun calls me and I do something not previously done….I ride into the Light.
I realized last week that for years I have planned my rides so that I don’t have face the sun…who wants to stare into the sun when there are other ways and routes that prevent this? But sunrise over the marsh, elevated on the boardwalk is exquisite. The Light calls me to face it….to turn towards it and allow it to bathe me in its glow.
I used to want to observe the sun as it peeked over the swamp. Now I want it to wrap around me, shine upon me and fill me…so every day I cycle I chase sunrise.
I have started a line of shirts called, Follow the Light. The first one is now available for purchase. The sale of these tees supports my work and allows me to do more of what my heart calls me to do. This design is available in white unisex sizes or ladies v-neck rocking a modern cut and design. Support the work but above all, Follow the Light!
There is a limited number available on this first production.
Sometimes the story behind the scars is bigger than the whale, larger than life. Such is Piano’s life story.
Piano crossed my path this year while I was visiting the Silver Bank for an offshore humpback whale week. She was eight years old. When I photographed her frolicking with other humpbacks she appeared happy, like the other whales swimming within the protected area. There was one exception….Piano had severe scars along her back. Looking at them through the viewfinder of my camera and telephoto lens I winced, “How could she survive whatever caused THAT!”
And the scars were not ‘only’ on her back. It appeared as if she had an entanglement scar on her fluke. It was difficult figuring out her story.
I captured several images including a fluke ID photo. Upon return I emailed the Center for Coastal Studies, sending the images along with the time and date observations were obtained.
Almost immediately I received a reply from Jooke Robbins, PhD, director of the Humpback Whale Studies Program giving a brief history of the whale and stating she was well known by the staff there. I did further digging and found out more information about this beautiful angel of the sea.
Piano was born in 2009. In 2011 she suffered a severe injury through a ship strike. Specifically the propeller sliced her back…or appeared to chew it. In July of 2012 she was severely entangled in fishing gear. When she was freed from that entanglement by the team, scars were noted from an even earlier, unwitnessed entanglement. On a lighter note, she was the poster girl for Wild Chatham in 2010.
Whales that live in the Gulf of Maine and surrounding area have a much better chance of survival thanks to The Center for Coastal Studies. Not only do they study whales, they have an amazing disentanglement team. Check out the short video below.
Piano touched me deeply. She fully embodies the energy of persistence and has survived even when faced with serious consequences of simply being a humpback whale in a world where human activity is increasingly dangerous.
Piano and her friend frolicking on the Silver Bank.
Join me in saying a little prayer for Piano, sending her love and include all whales in that prayer. And while you’re at it, say one for the humans, too. We need to awaken.
I offer an invitation to visit the Center for Coastal Studies web page to learn about their amazing work with many marine species. Join me in supporting them as a member. Visit their cool on-line store to purchase whale merch.
The summary of my week? More than ever I believe these whales to be highly aware, sentient beings with amazing intelligence and an important role to play in this Ocean planet’s story. I contend they are Angels of the Sea.
To read other stories about humpback whales check out the previous stories from this week on the Silver Bank.
In the dark of the night a faint glow emitted from the snow-white sand. From a celestial or mundane source? It was difficult to say from whence that light came. But that dim light allowed us to see the expanding dark spot in the center of the nest….Sea turtles arising from the depths of Mother Earth.
On the sea turtle patrol walk Sunday morning I listened and heard a 15 cascade and crawling with the stethoscope. A cascade or waterfall is a sound produced when sand fills in the space where an occupied egg was. When hatchlings break free of eggs, the rubbery shell collapses and sand fills it as babies crawl up.
How do they know to crawl up? It’s dark underground. Perhaps its the air flow…but that’s at least 12 inches above the eggs…maybe as deep as 24 inches. A mystery.
Team members who listened throughout the day heard sounds of hatching and crawling. When I arrived a little after 7 pm last night, my teammate Cathy said they were busy with the sounds we like to hear–cascades. Those cascades….those contractions of labor…indicate potential hatching.
At one point, I knelt down inside the tarp to listen with the scope and centered myself. As they worked beneath the sand, I envisioned a wave of love surrounding them, protecting them. I also sent a message with my thoughts….there’s a LOT of rain coming. If you’re ready to hatch this would be the perfect evening. It’s dark, the sand is fluffy and easy to crawl in and people are here to make sure you make it safely to the water….but it’s up to you sweet friends.
I listened again to the nest a little before 10pm and heard almost constant cascades after Cathy and I had heard shallow, loud cascades and deep, quieter cascades all evening. This indicated to me that the entire nest was working, not just a few turtles. When I heard non-stop, loud cascades I let other team members know our babies were about to make an appearance. A quick check with the red light showed a large V-shaped depression in the sand…another sign of eminent hatching.
Over the next two hours one dark spot…a nose, perhaps breathing the first breath of unobstructed, fresh air…became two, three…four….too many to count. Finally, in the very dim light we saw a slowly-growing darkness. The visitors, excited by the possible hatching, probably began to doubt us. We would relay the visuals…”there’s a dark blob…sea turtles are coming”…thirty minutes later….”the dark spot is getting bigger…think it’s gonna be a boil”…..thirty minutes later….”I know you don’t believe us but it looks like they are waiting to come together, it’s gonna be a boil”….thirty minutes later. And so on.
Kids got tired. Some folks gave up and went back to their beach homes. Who in their right mind would sit on a beach waiting for something that may not happen? Those of us that volunteer know what that slow-growing dark spot is and what will happen…at some point…maybe hours later….but we know….we know.
On one of my checks I knelt to the side of the light-shielding tarp and listened with only my senses. Ever so softly I heard their chirping. I had heard this through the stethoscope before but never when they were on the surface. The chirping is their way of communicating with each other while in their eggs. As the gathering of hatchlings reached over a foot in diameter and their bodies could be seen layered on top of each other, they chirped softly to each other. What were they saying? Was it encouragement? A gathering of siblings. So sweet was that faint sound….so precious. Tears form as I write this hours later, reflecting on the miracle of sea turtles…of all life.
On my last check at the nest before they were born, I knelt once again outside the tarp and could hear the boiling sound of sea turtle hatchlings crawling over each other and erupting in one massive contraction to the star-lit air. Bioluminescence illuminated the waves as they rolled onto shore welcoming the babies. Stars peeked through the clouds. A soft wind wrapped around all those human souls who stayed to witness the birth of 105 sea turtle souls into the sea.
Could this mama imagine the babies that would emerge? Photograph of a sea turtle release after rehab. Photo taken with permission by USFW under conditions that do not harm sea turtles.
I minded the nest as Cathy, Nancy, Rick, Matt and Jim observed the beautiful transformation of little earthlings to sea beings that, with good fortune, will return in 20 years or so lay their own nests.
After the parade of active babies made their way to the Gulf, I listened once again to a cascade and scratching. Another baby was working to make its way up and out into the night, into a future made brighter by the work Share the Beach volunteers do to give our sea turtle friends a chance at survival.
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Female sea turtle crawl
Share the Beach was started because hatchlings were consistently crawling toward porch lights and street lights rather than the sea. We walk the beaches of Alabama May 1st to September 1st looking for female sea turtle tracks. The tracks lead us to nests which we mark and get a GPS coordinates and other data. Around 50 days later (it varies dependent on heat/moisture) hatchlings begin to hatch under the sand. We then erect black tarps to help with disorientation from artificial light sources. It takes three or four days for babies to crawl through sand and empty egg shells to the surface. We monitor nests with stethoscopes and look for visual changes in the surface often. At night, the usual time for loggerheads to hatch, we attend the nests for as long as they are active. Sometimes visitors to our beaches get to observe the amazing sea turtle boils. If you are staying at the beach please be mindful of a few things: Please turn off all porch lights and keep indoor lightning low; don’t use bright flashlights around nests that are tarped and never when hatchlings are present or about to hatch…this is disorienting to the turtles and draws predators to the hatching area; remain respectful of the hard work turtles are doing to be born and keep horseplay to a minimum and noise levels low.
Special note from last night’s hatching….thank you Cathy, Nancy, Rick, Jim and Matt for such awesome teamwork! And to our visitors who helped us hold a space of respect and love for the hatchlings….THANK YOU! And….to those precious babies who lit up our night and our hearts….thank you for reminding us of the sacred cycles of life, the wisdom of our instincts and the ability to care and love beyond ourselves.
I’ve often said that photography is my ‘excuse’ to connect with nature. When looking through my artist eyes I go beyond what’s in front of me to the essence of life expressing itself…through a sunset, a sunrise, whale eye….dolphin smile. When I compose an image its as if something from out there calls me to expose the magic of life through a photograph.
When I allow my mind and heart to be open, connect with life around me and approach it with a spirit of playfulness, the connection happens effortlessly. I lose myself in an experience of oneness and feel a part of life.
Several years ago a group of us took a weekend to photograph the Smoky Mountains. On the final day I was standing with my friends photographing the sunset. A guy walked up to me and asked what my settings were. I shoot with manual settings of aperture and shutter speed but I couldn’t tell him without looking at my camera because I don’t work with a formula or figure it out with my left brain. I play with the settings, beginning where I suspect the exposure will create the feeling I want. After the initial shot, adjustments are made according to the mood I want to capture.
Nature calls me to connect for my own balance and healing. I show up, connect with an open heart and simply play in hope that in some way I can translate the magic of life.
My Nikon had been sitting on my desk since the Florida Springs dive trip. I felt so bad for it, all alone…waiting for a play date, I decided to do my Sunday morning beach walk this morning since Sunday was rained out. It was before 5am when I ran upstairs and grabbed my camera and tripod. Cool. The tripod bracket is already on the camera. That will save time.
The sky was still subdued but there were pink clouds mocking me as I hurriedly drove the last few curves on Highway 135. By the time I ran to the water’s edge most of the pink was gone. Whatever, I’ll just do some long exposures with the rough water…that will be nice.
Too late now. Light was brightening and that’s not what I want when playing with motion and color and wide angle.
The rough water of the past few days had deposited huge amounts of plants from Mobile Bay along the beaches. I felt bad about leaving my usual trash bag at home for collecting garbage but there was so much plastic and other human-created debris I could have filled up a pick-up truck…or small dump truck. (I did remove plastic bags and a mylar balloon….deadly items for sea turtles and other animals that might eat it).
Regardless, I played with my 14-24mm lens. Each time I use it I remember how much I enjoy the lens…its beautiful crispness, the ability to get very close to objects for interesting wide angle shots. It was a sweet reminder.
I could have given up after leaving my bracket at home or paused to erase (one-by-one) the many photographs from diving weeks ago so I wouldn’t lose the ones already taken this morning….but then missed the perfect light. However, I worked with the circumstances that presented and came away with not only a nice walk and a few good images, but with a valuable reminder: Work with what I have, celebrate the day regardless.
Perhaps too often I allow the glitches of the day define the day. No need to do that. Keep squeezing the day for every bit of sweetness I can find.
