I drove over the Fish River high-rise bridge today and could see over Week’s Bay and out into Mobile Bay. I longed to be out on the water. It’s not like it is inconvenient for me to find water to launch my SUP board. It’s a matter of putting on my board shorts, surf skin top, hat, sunglasses, waist PFD, walking out to the garage, strapping the board onto the SUP wheels, grabbing my paddle and walking less than a quarter mile to the river.
The problem isn’t lack of water access. There are two main reasons I haven’t been boarding in a week.
First, I’ve been working very hard in my yard– garden, courtyard and shrubbery. Second, the wind has been screaming here. Even on the river, paddling hasn’t been especially welcoming with chilly (at times), strong wind.
Paddling this winter on the river
I’m no paddle wimp though. I paddled all winter. Then March arrived. Twenty mile an hour breezes aren’t so fun. Stand-up paddlers become human sails catching any wind that is out and about. I’ve really been a bit spiteful towards the wind lately but it sure felt great as I raked today.
But the salt breeze is calling. The smell of salt marsh is a balm to my soul, a call to the home within myself. And so tonight, as I drift off to sleep, I will be thinking about a morning paddle in those 15-25 mph winds and will embrace the blow with appreciation that at least one direction will have some seriously great downwind action! Sometimes the effort is worth the payoff. Ya HOOOO!!!!
Each morning, as I walk my SUP board to the small river beach, I greet a beautiful, old cedar tree that stands on the bank. Its gnarled trunk is scarred with places where limbs used to be and the deep fissures in the bark invite my fingers to explore them and touch the texture with gentle regard.
This morning after paddling I walked my board up the trail and felt a gentle nudge from the grandmother tree to come back and visit. After settling my board on the grass, I returned and placed my hands on the trunk and looked up. What a massive tree, soaring far into the sky. Usually I see only the section I pass by, rarely stopping to notice the entirety of the tree.
We do that to ourselves and others. We focus on one small part of ourselves…normally some behavior or personality flaw we don’t particularly like…and obsess about that. Or with other humans we see something we don’t like and dismiss the person without taking time to view the whole person and their many good qualities.
If I only looked superficially at the cedar tree I might say it has a lot of scars and bumps and imperfections. But when I step back and gaze at its entirety I see such magnificent beauty and oddly enough, it is the flaws make it beautiful.
In my first book, Sharks On My Fin Tips, I wrote a story about my grandfather and the depth of love’s grooves worn into our hearts by those we love. In taking a moment to visit the tree today I thought of that quote. People, wildlife, oceans, rivers, bays…all the things I have loved in my life have made an impression on me. There may be scars but mostly the memory of interacting with loved ones–people and animals–and wild animals and places has worn beautiful groves into my heart, that will remain forever.
Like the cedar tree’s beauty, our beauty comes not from perfection but from the imperfections we grow through and overcome and the impression love makes on our hearts as we risk opening them to love others.
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.
Black vulture near Crystal River, FL
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’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….
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.
Self-portrait 2013
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.
Over a week ago coastal Alabama had 8 inches of rain in a short period of time. This created a great amount of water than ran into our creeks and rivers. The Magnolia River, where I live, was no exception.
Beach across the river
After the high water subsided I wheeled my SUP board down to the little beach near the headwaters of the river and noticed quite a change. Brilliant white sand had built up on the beach across the river and on our little beach.
This might not seem like such a big deal but since Hurricane Isaac last summer, high tides from the storm had deposited large amounts of very dark, sticky mud on the beach so every step left feet or sandals caked with mud. It stained feet, gummed up flip-flops and was a nasty mess. That’s the thing about this tidal river–it is affected by whatever is pushed into Week’s Bay or Mobile Bay.
The beach where I put in used to be a muddy mess…now white sand graces the shore
It was exciting to see that the old snag by the rocks had been flushed away. There had been too many close calls with that bit of debris and my SUP board narrowly escaped slices and gouges from the old, dead wood laying just beneath the surface.
Taking a moment to contemplate life
As I paddled along today I thought how my life is like this river. There has been a lot of dark, sticky yuck that has lurked just beneath the surface for many years. Finally, a series of events brought these unpleasant, dysfunctional behaviors to my attention and I’ve been working to clear them.
A big gully-washer of tears from grief and sadness over what I have lost throughout my life flushed out of my unconscious in bits and pieces. The darkness was loosened and freed and the beautiful light within was brought up. I call it love…unconditional love. Like the white sand on the beaches, new ground has formed for my life. The old inner snags that hooked me have been flushed away and I’m left with clarity and peace.
Clowning around for the camera in Crystal River, Florida
There will continue to be tides that bring change and heavy rains that clear away the old but one thing is certain to me–my life is a river of love and light. I finally understand that. And so is yours. And someday, maybe we can have ‘inner rivers’ that are crystal clear and filled constantly from the Source of Life.
You never know what will happen when you set your intention for a morning of manatee interaction. An impromptu trip with a gal pal to snorkel with our sea cow friends and spend some time SUP boarding gave us more than we’d hoped for but not what we expected.
We took off this morning just before sunrise with the outfitter and our favorite captain. When we walked into the dive shop I saw a cave diving icon (sorry Harry) that actually taught my cave instructor. He and his group were on the same boat we were on so we had a chance to visit which made the trip even more fun.
Beauty of these springs is absolute.
But the manatees were not in Three Sister’s Springs today. It was warm so they were out feeding and this, of course, is wonderful for them. So we swam around the springs and headed back out to the boat and then spent the next couple of hours going on a manatee search. Since I was dressed in a dry suit, I got to be the scout and swim out and check places to see if there were any nearby.
At one point I slipped into the murky, green water of King’s Bay and floated, still and silent, after we saw the ‘footprint’ or ripples of water that were left behind by a swimming manatee. I never saw them but heard a mom and baby communicating through their high-pitched whistles. When I got back on the boat my mates told me that they had seen the manatees swim right beside me…due to the green water I never saw them but definitely felt their presence.
After easing around the bay and different springs we happened to come upon a group of four manatees….two of which were VERY large. They were mating. Huge, round tails danced in the air, heavy bodies rolled in the water, and the intensity of manatee love was so strong that smart snorkelers stayed far away from the nuptials and observed with cautious excitement.
So no babies played with my camera housing, none wanted to interact. But how amazing to know that next year when I visit there will be new babies that add to the beauty of our planet and the specialness of these beautiful, warm springs.
My YOLO teak cruiser is a true friend. We have been in some amazing places.
I spent three hours after lunch SUP boarding in serious wind. I’d duck into quite canals or springs and float with anhingas and mullet. I spent time visiting with manatee volunteers, and had a heck of a work out paddling against the wind and then riding it back across King’s Bay…a downwinder that made me push myself with physical effort and laugh at the outrageous speed gained over open water with such a big wind.
You never know what you’ll get when the day begins but it’s guaranteed that if you keep the heart and mind open, there are no disappointing days.
I drove over the Fish River high-rise bridge today and could see over Week’s Bay and out into Mobile Bay. I longed to be out on the water. It’s not like it is inconvenient for me to find water to launch my SUP board. It’s a matter of putting on my board shorts, surf skin top, hat, sunglasses, waist PFD, walking out to the garage, strapping the board onto the SUP wheels, grabbing my paddle and walking less than a quarter mile to the river.
But the salt breeze is calling. The smell of salt marsh is a balm to my soul, a call to the home within myself. And so tonight, as I drift off to sleep, I will be thinking about a morning paddle in those 15-25 mph winds and will embrace the blow with appreciation that at least one direction will have some seriously great downwind action! Sometimes the effort is worth the payoff. Ya HOOOO!!!!
