A balmy 97% humidity made it feel as if I was paddling my SUP board through water instead of on water. So close to the consistency of liquid was the atmosphere that I was soon drenched as I got into my fitness groove.
No air stirred, and the reflective river’s surface was only broken by mullet, alligator gar and bumblebees. Two of these flying wonders were upside down creating small ripples. I love bees and always stop and lend a paddle blade to rescue them so the two fat-bodied, pollen-toting creatures flew off to gather more pollen after a little help. I then continued downriver.
It was a hot paddle even though I started at 7am. But the playlist for the morning kept me going and before long I had paddled past the ski course, my 2.5 mile mark, and turned around. I faced the sun on my return paddle and it felt like I was being steamed alive. As fast as I drank water, I sweated it out of my body. My focus narrowed to simply getting back upriver and into the shade of the narrow part of the waterway.
Alligator gars were popping the surface as they came up for air. They can breathe underwater or at the surface and in the summer I see them from my paddle board as they pop up to breathe. I’ve had close encounters with them before and one time a large one (four feet long) surfaced at my left foot and I screamed like a kid. Since my board moves through the water silently I find myself too close often.
On-line photo
Today I had a particularly interesting encounter with this living fossil fish species. I was digging in, paddling hard. Jackson Browne was playing on my iPod and I was singing along…of course. “Fountain of sorrow….” and BUMP! My board was knocked. I squealed at the same time the gar squealed. I swear…I wasn’t suffering from heat stroke. The fish squealed! Either that or her armored, jagged, diamond shaped ganoid scales, that are nearly impenetrable, scraped the bottom of board and made the high-pitched sound. Or perhaps it was that double-row of sharp teeth. Regardless, I heard two squeals and can only claim one as my own.
It gave me a good laugh and brought me out of fine voice form momentarily. But I quickly recovered and went back to sweating, singing, paddling and groovin’ on this fine, summer morning on the Magnolia River.
My playlist you ask? It’s listed below in no particular order:
Fountain of Sorrow, Jackson Browne; Keep Breathing, Ingrid Michaelson; There Will Be a Light, Ben Harper; Never Alone, Lady Antebellum & Jim Brickman; Brothers & Sisters, Coldplay; Get On Your Boots, U2; Love Someone, Jason Mraz; Best Friend, Jason Mraz; Love is the Solution, Will Kimbrough; Sugar, Sugarcane Jane; My Someday, Brigitte Demeyer; Blessed Are the Brokenhearted, Jill Johnson; Washboard Lisa, Grayson Capps; Go in Peace, Sam Baker; Lift Your Spirit, Aloe Blacc; Ocean Soul, David Wilcox; God Bless, Lisa Carver; Mercy Now, Mary Gauthier; Singing Me Home, Lady Antebellum; Lost, Jay-Z & Coldplay; Knockin’, Carolina Chocolate Drops; Gypsy Train, Willie Sugarcapps; Not Alone, Ben Taylor; People of Love, Snatam Kaur; Surround Me, Ben Taylor; A Couple Hundred Miracles, Will Kimbrough; Running on Sunshine, Jesus Jackson; Beautiful, Akon, Colby O’Donis, Kardinal Offishall; Make You Feel My Love, Adele; The Whole Enchilada, Keb’ Mo’; Belief, John Mayer; …and more that I can’t remember.
The only ripples on the surface of the water were those created by mullet, alligator gars and other fish schooling. The mirror-like river seemed to breathe peace. A few months ago it was a raging torrent that brought terrible destruction that created fear and chaos but today it invited me to reconnect, to dance…to renew friendship.
As I paddled my SUP board, the carbon fiber blade sliced through liquid reflections of clouds and I felt emotions arise that took me back to that scary night when the docile river became a viciously flowing white-water river that raced through yards, homes…though lives. I realized my reluctance to paddle these many weeks since then was due to resentment or distrust I had towards the river. I had trusted it completely and then it seemed to go berserk.
Of course, it’s irrational to resent a force of nature. It wasn’t responsible for paving over acres of land in nearby towns that causes water to run off the surface rather than soak into the ground. This quaint waterway didn’t cause two feet of rain to fall in 24 hours nor did it fill itself in with sediment from development erosion. The river didn’t do any of this….it’s just a river that reacted to an event.
As I pondered the resentment and distrust I felt, I realized how closely the river mirrors my life. Recently I’ve been journeying deep within to simply listen to what I say to myself, what thoughts I think and repeat. It has not been easy. I have felt the effects of a near silent destructive force of negative self-talk. As well, my perfectionism has been a dark force in life that, at times, feels like a ton of baggage that weighs down some of my most creative ideas and endeavors.
While I want to feel that calm, beautiful peace within, there are times when it feels like a river raging through my innermost calm. Sometimes a little extra force is good but when it becomes destructive it isn’t good or beneficial.
Perhaps it takes an inner storm every once in a while to clear out what’s no longer serving the higher purpose of life; however, it’s probably much wiser to avoid creating situations that produce such intensive experiences. For instance, don’t pave over or ignore emotions as they tend to build up and become bigger than if allowed regular expression. Don’t ignore the negative self-talk that can quite literally keep us stuck, mired in self-doubt and fear. And maybe most important…be kind and compassionate to ourselves.
Today as I paddled in the early-morning calm, I made peace with the river; I made peace with myself.
Loving the Earth: Creating a Conscious Relationship with Our Planet
A slight breezed carried my SUP board downriver as I stopped paddling to watch a pair of bald eagles drag their talons along the surface of the water. Nearby great egrets crowned cypress trees, their white plumage dazzling against the background of blue sky. A mullet splashed in the mud-tinted water of the Magnolia River and brought my attention back from sky to earth. As my gaze turned downward a brown pelican folded her wings, as if in prayer, and dropped from the sky close to my board. All around life expressed in a beautiful ballet of balance with this lone patron admiring the dance. Bliss seemed shared by all but perhaps it might be better named communion.
One never knows what will be the call that brings us to our heart’s work. While I loved nature since childhood, I never felt the commitment…the calling…to dedicate my life’s work to it until the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill. It felt as if everything in life stopped so I could focus entirely on the Gulf Coast and the amazing life in our coastal ecosystems. During the first days of oil washing ashore I remember thinking the end of the world had arrived. How could this happen?
It’s easier to believe everything is okay than to pay attention to what’s really happening. I shared my book containing oil spill images with a cousin the other day that lives in Pensacola and she was shocked to see the reality I documented. There are people who live in Gulf Shores who still believe it wasn’t bad…that there wasn’t oil mixed with dispersant and it wasn’t fizzing in tidal pools of tiny fish gasping to their last breath. I know because I saw it first hand and stood on the beach weeping for every life I saw pass.
The most difficult thing I have ever experienced was witnessing the spill and its effects on innocent life which included small children playing in oily waters…so polluted that the benzene burned my eyes and throat. Video and photographs in my library document everything I saw but they can never share the true experience of grief beyond anything I’ve known.
A friend and mentor reminded me, during the first year of the spill, that there was a reason I was being called to witness the horror even though I might not understand why. Over four years have passed and I am more convinced that the only way to heal our broken planet is to heal our relationship with It and to heal our relationship with each other. That means healing our own lives.
The only solution I have found is to practice love…love as compassion…love as respect…love in the purest form of opening to surrender, to service.
Love for the planet requires opening the self. When we risk the deep opening of human heart to planetary heart we know the elation of unspeakable joy, of the heart’s expanding in answer to beauty. We also know the experience of grief and heartbreak when places, wildlife and humans we love are destroyed or profoundly injured.
Celebrating the beauty of the Magnolia River and other places of natural beauty relieves the grief that comes from being aware of the trials our planet is experiencing. There is resilience in nature and my hope is we will practice better stewardship before a non-reversible tipping point is reached.
As I remain engaged with nature’s rhythms through simple, daily observation and intention, I am drawn more deeply into partnership with the Earth. If we collectively open our hearts to loving this sacred planet, we can create a bond with each other that will transform darkness and create positive, lasting change.
The use of underwater breathing apparatus was referenced in medieval codices. Then Leonardo Di Vinci used his studies of lungs and respiration to create a watertight chest bag and valve that regulated airflow that allowed individuals to breathe underwater. Wooden barrels were used as primitive diving bells in the 16th century. Then British engineer John Smeaton invented the air pump and when it was connected to the diving barrel, allowing for more air to be pumped into the barrel. Rigid diving suits appeared in the late 1800’s but weighed over 200 pounds. Fast forward to the early 1940’s and Emile Gagnan and Jacques Cousteau co-invented the modern demand regulator that pushed technology for scuba diving far from the hollow reeds used as snorkels by our ancient ancestors.
Photo by Turtle and Ray Productions, Curacao
Can you imagine what divers from Leonardo’s time would think of our recreational pursuit of scuba diving today?
Photo by Ed Jackson on a cave dive with Simone Lipscomb and others
Can you imagine what they might think of divers able to penetrate caves? The farthest I have been into a cave was one half mile but there are people who go so much further by staging dives with multiple tanks and gas mixes of helium, oxygen and nitrogen. What would Leonardo think of Tri-Mix? Or rebreathers that scrub carbon dioxide out of the air, mix the cleaned air with fresh oxygen which divers breathe again.
Photo by Phyliss Ward
Another of Leonardo’s inventions was boards that kept humans upright as they walked on water. A historic attempt at stand-up paddle boards?
I wonder what he would think. I imagine him loving the advance in technology by joining me for a river paddle. Knowing the amazing mind and spirit of Leonardo Da Vinci, he’d invent something even grander than a carbon fiber and teak board and carbon fiber paddle.
He is known for his greatness and genius in mathematics, geometry, physics, engineering, anatomy, geology, botany, geography, music, sculpture, architecture and of course painting (whew). And he was known to be handsome, have strength, dexterity, brilliance, eloquence, generosity, charm, spirit and courage. I think of Da Vinci as the true Renaissance Man.
While the other guys wore long robes of somber colors he work short doublets and tights of blue and crimson velvet adorned with silver brocade. Never mind that he was born to unmarried parents who were not well-known or wealthy. This self-created man who wore wildly different attire created art and inventions we marvel at centuries later.
When my friend Phyliss sent me photographs from the “Da Vinci–Genius Inventor” in Rome, I began thinking about how humans have the capacity for such greatness, such amazing creativity as well as the capacity for such destruction. Today, as I sit at my desk in my comfortable home with the ancient live oaks draped around it protectively, the fuel rods at Fukushima are being removed by a crane. The potential for catastrophe not know before hangs by a thread of balance and timing.
Our world seems, of late, to be in a constant state of hanging-in-the-balance due to human misbehavior and ignorance. Oil spills in corn fields, in the Gulf of Mexico, in a neighborhood in Arkansas; plastic creating an island the size of Texas in the Pacific Ocean; people starving while countries spend billions of dollars in war efforts. So much darkness…such disappointment in the human species.
Yet paralleling this darkness, people of amazing light and love for the planet, for life, emerge from every country to create a better world. In Leonardo’s time, it took a some creative geniuses to bring humanity out of the Dark Ages. Today each of us is needed to bring forth our skills and talents with great passion and dedication, with wild abandon. We are called to step forward in service to our communities, to the planetary family of life. Nothing less than a renaissance of the Self is needed.
It is usually difficult to see a current or flow in the Magnolia River
Today I’ve been reflecting on the river I paddled on yesterday morning. I usually walk my SUP board from my home down to it regularly so yesterday morning I thought I’d get in a paddle before rain moved into the area. I checked the radar to make sure and we were in a wide-enough window of clear skies so I excitedly donned my PFD which is a unique contraption folded at my waist and inflatable when needed by pulling a handle at my right hip. Also, since I started later than normal I grabbed a hat, sunshades and of course my paddle and board.
The river was higher than normal when I put in but not flowing so fast as to cause too much concern
After the short walk to the river I scouted it prior to unsaddling my board from the wheeled carrier and had some concerns. The river was definitely flowing much higher than normal but it wasn’t unmanageable. Of course I would be paddling against current when I returned so I stood and watched it for a few moments before scampering back to my board and going for it.
The narrow part of the river where I live has a lot of overhanging trees. They were much closer to my head and two unsuccessfully tried to knock me off my board. But the muddy water cleared up when I got to the Cold Hole, not far from my put-in beach so I was happy. Of course, had I really thought about it, I would have realized that the water had just started to rise. That bit of inspiration came later.
A mile and a half down river and marvelous sights to behold filled me with raw joy. When I arrived at the Devil’s Hole a juvenile great blue heron flew back to the nest with a parental unit who then regurgitated breakfast for said youngster after a full-blown hissy fit was acted out by the hungry bird. I stopped paddling and watched the drama with keen interest and then continued down river.
Both juvenile ospreys had flown away from their nest overlooking Bemis Bay. I was excited to know of their graduation from standing on the edge of the nest and flapping their large wings to being able to soar over the beautiful cypress forest, river and bays.
The skies started to look dark and heavy so I turned back toward home and picked up my pace. It felt great to dig deep and move my Yolo Cruiser speedily upriver.
Not something to paddle in….given the trees floating past and nasty water
When I arrived back at the bridge the water level had increased so I couldn’t do my usual hand-exchange with the long paddle. I had to use care not to hit the bottom of the bridge.
The Cold Hole was looking rather interesting by the time I got back. The flow on the narrow part of the river had significantly increased in the hour since I left. I looked around and realized I could take my board out on a neighbor’s dock and walk back home if need be but that would mean leaving an expensive carbon fiber board at the mercy of honest (hopefully) people. I checked out the flow and decided to chance it. My only concern was the small beach still being there when I arrived back at it.
The beach was non-existent not long after I exited the water.
It was a very tough paddle. All manner of debris was floating past but mostly small items so I dodged them. And I knelt down on my board to add a bit of insurance to my safety. Falling into flood water,besides being a health hazard, could cause serious injury and stress. The sphincter factor was definitely there but I made it to the almost-disappeared beach which had evolved into a tiny bit of sand.
Great job, I thought. Whew! That was a rush.
Magnolia Springs Fire Department in our 4th of July Parade
An hour later, after eating breakfast and showering, I walked with my mom to the July 4th parade in Magnolia Springs and we walked along the Cold Hole. I looked up river, to where I had struggled not long ago, and witnessed a raging river. The Cold Hole had become a swirling mass of logs, trees and debris. Just upriver there were muddy, standing waves. I realized how very lucky I had been but also how very reckless I had been with my safety.
Several years ago I did some swift water rescue training in North Carolina and in reflecting on the river and my decision to paddle it, I realize I made serious errors in judgment. First, flash flooding brings water from other areas to streams and rivers. We had very little rain in our area but just east of us they had torrential rainfall. Why did I forget that? And water levels can rise quickly….what was I thinking? It takes less than 6 inches of moving water to knock a person down. Moving water is a powerful force. So what’s with my lapse of judgment yesterday?
I cave dive and scuba dive in the ocean, I’ve rappelled and done other outdoor activities that others might consider high-risk. I have never thought of them as high-risk because I have always trained well and applied my brain power to the safety rules. Yesterday I made a decision that wasn’t smart. Had I gone an hour later I could have gotten seriously stressed and possibly injured. But it was a reminder that sometimes people don’t think about the power of water.
I realize I was careless with my safety yesterday. It wasn’t intentional yet it was reckless. Two other times in my life flood waters have challenged me. In one case my younger brother and I had to free our horses that were trapped in our stable when a flash flood occurred at night. We were terrified yet we donned our PFD’s and held on to each other and helped our horses to safety. The other was when I was fifteen and drove through a flooded dirt road in my dad’s truck. No cell phones, deserted dirt road with an old wooden bridge. Water was up past the door….I didn’t know how dangerous it was and only by the protection of my guardian angels did I make it through that one. I’m still dancing with flood waters and hopefully learning from mistakes. Today, I’m having flashes of insight but yesterday they were no where to be found. I am grateful for my life….so I want to be careful and aware of potential and real dangers. Sometimes its difficult to separate imagined from real dangers…and sometimes it’s not.
Here’s a few precautions to keep in mind when we have heavy rains. First, if water is covering a roadway, turn around…don’t drown. The road could be washed out and what you think is a few inches of water could be several feet. If you have to walk in flood waters, do NOT walk in rushing water. Remember it only takes 6 inches of rushing water to knock a person down. Less than two feet of water can float a large truck or bus. NEVER try to drive through a flooded roadway. And last of all, flood water can contain raw sewage, industrial toxins, pesticide run-off from farms and lawns, and dangerous debris. If you come in contact with it wash immediately with hot water and soap.
A balmy 97% humidity made it feel as if I was paddling my SUP board through water instead of on water. So close to the consistency of liquid was the atmosphere that I was soon drenched as I got into my fitness groove.
It was a hot paddle even though I started at 7am. But the playlist for the morning kept me going and before long I had paddled past the ski course, my 2.5 mile mark, and turned around. I faced the sun on my return paddle and it felt like I was being steamed alive. As fast as I drank water, I sweated it out of my body. My focus narrowed to simply getting back upriver and into the shade of the narrow part of the waterway.
Fountain of Sorrow, Jackson Browne; Keep Breathing, Ingrid Michaelson; There Will Be a Light, Ben Harper; Never Alone, Lady Antebellum & Jim Brickman; Brothers & Sisters, Coldplay; Get On Your Boots, U2; Love Someone, Jason Mraz; Best Friend, Jason Mraz; Love is the Solution, Will Kimbrough; Sugar, Sugarcane Jane; My Someday, Brigitte Demeyer; Blessed Are the Brokenhearted, Jill Johnson; Washboard Lisa, Grayson Capps; Go in Peace, Sam Baker; Lift Your Spirit, Aloe Blacc; Ocean Soul, David Wilcox; God Bless, Lisa Carver; Mercy Now, Mary Gauthier; Singing Me Home, Lady Antebellum; Lost, Jay-Z & Coldplay; Knockin’, Carolina Chocolate Drops; Gypsy Train, Willie Sugarcapps; Not Alone, Ben Taylor; People of Love, Snatam Kaur; Surround Me, Ben Taylor; A Couple Hundred Miracles, Will Kimbrough; Running on Sunshine, Jesus Jackson; Beautiful, Akon, Colby O’Donis, Kardinal Offishall; Make You Feel My Love, Adele; The Whole Enchilada, Keb’ Mo’; Belief, John Mayer; …and more that I can’t remember.
