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Back to Nature (Published on TBNWeekly.com - June 21, 2007)
Sometimes life's small things give us hope By Karen Mitchell Tremmel
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..> ..> Photo by Karen Mitchell Tremmel Grandmother June Painting

Sometimes it is the smallest things in life that give us hope.

In a world of chaos, frustration, pressures, harshness and confusion humankind will seek solace in whatever manner that may be found. It is how we seek this solitude (this sacred space that is within us) that makes so much difference in our lives.

Based on the choices we make, our paths lead us to new discoveries and awareness. Based on the way we treat ourselves, others, the wild creatures on our planet and the earth beneath our feet, is how we see ourselves and is how we are seen by others.

Some time ago while speaking to my Cherokee Grandmother she commented that she felt a sadness within me and wanted to know what it was that was bothering me so deeply. I explained that it wasn't necessarily a sadness for myself individually but a sadness for others that seemed so bitter, full of hatred, malice and with lack of respect for others and our planet.

She quietly sat for a minute while holding my hand. I felt her warmth surround me. I felt her love fall around my shoulders. We sat speaking not a word. She asked me after a while, "Do you feel my love for you?" I smiled. This question didn't require an answer.

She said, "People choose how they want to surround themselves.  Some people live on chaos and drama. Some choose to look at the world through the lenses of hatred. It is our choice how we see our worlds and live in them. I choose to live in beauty. I choose to love and surround my children with that love. It is my choice. No matter how bad things get, choose to be surrounded by love and beauty." She reminded me of an old Indian saying, "We are known by the footsteps we leave behind."

In my life it has not always been easy to find the beauty in darkness. It is easy to look at a sunset and be amazed at the awesome pinks and tangerines, the lavender shadows, the melting waters. Does the color of green before the thunderstorm fill your senses with the memories of damp earth beneath your feet?

And when a tree falls in a forest can you imagine that this is not the end?  What home will she provide? Who will spawn in her fertile limbs. She is a mother in the forest. She is not gone but has changed from one source of beauty to another. We all change like this.

Recently I was walking in the forest with my love. The scene lacked show. The Spanish moss hung windless, the leaf buds had yet to mature. The day was overcast stealing the shadows but something in this quiet gave us peace. We came to a clearing where landscape colors changed, appearing in soft grays and greens.

We knelt to discover Deer Moss (Cladoniaceae), so soft, so small, so elegant, so beautiful. Here was its place. Here is where it called home, in the middle of a forest that looked like any other forest. Like an alien, out of place, but it needed this forest to exist.

It was when I thought of this, I remembered my Grandmother's words. Everything is related. One can not exist without the other. We can't appreciate beauty without also getting a glimpse of the world through the eyes of others. Then it is our choice how we go from there.

We could walk on the moss with abandon or carefully side step these beauties, lay near them and look at them from the eyes of a stranger.  Beauty is surrounding us. Love is surrounding us. We have a choice to reach out and touch beauty or rather wish harm.  It is those smallest things in life, those little miracles that remind us of the larger decisions we make.  Like the soft, gray deer moss, we are all related.

Karen can be reached at back_2nature@hotmail.com. 
Copyright © 2004-2007 Karen Mitchell Tremmel, All Rights Reserved.

Back to Nature (Published on TBNWeekly.com - Aug. 4, 2004)
Her name is simply, Wilderness

By Karen Mitchell Tremmel

There is this place I can go. A dear friend shares this natural wealth with me whenever I need to retreat from society, to write, paint or just sit in the boathouse and watch the sun set upon calm lake waters. Surrounded by acres and acres of incredible wild beauty, it was quiet and peaceful.

Splendid wild things also call this land home, as raccoons scrap with each other at dawn and armadillos scuttle one after another, back and forth over well worn paths. Deer tracks can be seen left behind in the moist soil after early morning foraging, as well as Black Bear and Bobcat. Alligators glide-out staking their claim to water territories, as a couple of Swallowtail-Kites rule the cattail stands. Song birds fill the upper canopy of tall sand pines and live oaks with chirps and melodies during the day, but a Great-Horned Owl and a Barred Owl soundlessly dominate the nights.

This land is old and for the most part untouched by human hands. The cabin is just barely basic, simply rustic.  She is and has been a refuge to many. Hardly visible she peaks out between the large oaks unobtrusive.  Her large windows on all four sides allow cooling, fresh breezes to rush in and out as if a silk scarf was being pulled between a woman's loving hands. Blended with her surroundings, worn clapboard shingles, same as bark, she has no need to brace against nature – nature embraces her with open arms. Her name is simply, Wilderness.

One evening my husband and I watched from our canoe as the storms rolled in closer and  thunderheads built up high in the sky. A small patch tore in the center of the clouds just briefly enough to show a peek of pink and tangerine sky. As the lake waters became increasingly choppy we resolved to head for the shelter of Wilderness.

Lightning tore through the night followed by crashing slams and cracks of thunder as the rain on the tin roof lulled us to sleep. In the morning, I peeked out the second story windows to see if there was any damage and discovered a Barred-Owl crouching on a low branch.

A heavy fog filled every empty space of the forest backlighting the Barred Owl in soft, gentle grays. We watched for some time until she swooped to the forest floor apparently in search of breakfast. After our own breakfast we decided to take our morning walk.

The thick layer of fog refused to be stirred by the heat of the approaching day. The forest was silent. Prism droplets dangled from even the tiniest leaves and branches. Beaded spider webs hung in strands from tree to tree. Dampened dragonflies flew on glistening wings while a Pileated-Woodpecker hammered a drum song in the top of a tall tree.

As we walked deeper into the forest we recognized a familiar shape upon a high branch. There above us was the Barred Owl we'd spotted earlier this morning. She allowed us to quietly shift back and forth, while we averted our eyes, looking down so as not to disturb her, only looking up momentarily with cameras to immortalize her in captured beauty on film.

This beautiful owl is not uncommon to this kind of habitat. The Barred Owl prefers swamps and moist woodlands. Her primary source of food is mice but she also eats small mammals, reptiles, amphibians and other birds. She will often make her nest in the abandoned nest holes of the Pileated-Woodpecker where the female Barred Owl lays two to three eggs on the bare wood chips that are found in the hole. Incubation takes about 28 days. The young owlets are blind for the first week of their lives but begin to resemble their parents by their third week.

The 18- to 25-inch Barred Owl has a stocky build, large, round head and dark eyes. Their coloration is grayish-brown with wide barred collar and on upper chest and barring and streaking below and on their belly, reason for the name, Barred Owl. The Barred Owls distinctive call is a series of loud rhythmic hoots: Who cooks for you, Who cooks for you all.  The Great-Horned Owl is the natural enemy to the Barred Owl but in this wilderness they seem to coexist in peaceful accord as is this forest... back to nature.

There is this place I can go. It is quiet and peaceful here. Her name is simply, Wilderness.

We are space travelers upon the spaceship, Planet Earth, third planet from our solar system's Sun at a distance of 149,597,870 million kilometers (92,958,350 million miles) referred to by astronomers as one astronomical unit.  Studded with craters and strewn with rocks and dust, a cold, dry orb travels with our spaceship at a distance of 238,900 miles (384,000 km), on average, around our sun. This orb is Earth's one natural satellite, the moon. The same side of the moon always faces the Earth; it is in a synchronous rotation with the Earth. What we see of the moon is the sun's illumination upon the moon's surface. The moon revolves around the Sun in concert with the Earth each month or 27 days 8 hours rotating on its own axis in about the same amount of time, therefore some scientists consider the Moon and the Earth to be a double planet system (rather than a planet/moon system).  While traveling through our solar system we can expect to see this satellite each night. We can expect to be bathed in moon light. Every morning we expect the sun will illuminate our day. These are predictable occurrences. So far we can count on these natural occurrences but technology is advancing faster than our ethics and natural markers to guide our civilization.

Native Americans Indians of Eastern North America kept track of the seasons by giving distinctive names to each of the predictable, recurring full Moons. These names were applied to the entire month in which each occurred.

JANUARY: Cold Moon Unolvtani or the Full Wolf Moon, FEBRUARY: Bony Moon Kagali  or Full Snow Moon, MARCH: Windy Moon Anuyi or  the Full Crow Moon Full Worm Moon; APRIL: Flower Moon Kawoni, the Full Pink Moon, the Full Corn Planting Moon, or the Milk Moon; MAY: Planting Moon Anisguti  or the Full Strawberry Moon; JUNE: Green Corn Moon Tihaluhiyi  or the Full Strawberry Moon; JULY: Ripe Corn Moon Guyegwoni or The Full Buck Moon; AUGUST: Fruit Moon Galoni or Full Sturgeon Moon; Full Fruit or Barley Moon; SEPTEMBER: Nut Moon Duliidsdi or Full Harvest Moon: OCTOBER: Harvest Moon Duninudi or Full Hunter's Moon; NOVEMBER: Trading Moon Nudadaequa or Full Beaver Moon; DECEMBER: Snow Moon Usgiyi or The Full Cold Moon or the Full Long Nights Moon.

It's now the time of the last full Moon of winter, the Anuyi - the Windy Moon, the Full Crow Moon or Full Worm Moon. The names of the moons were so named honoring and representing the people's connection with the earth.  As temperatures begin to warm and the northern ground began to thaw, earthworm casts appeared, heralding the return of the robins. The more northern tribes also knew this moon as the Full Crow Moon, when the cawing of crows signaled the end of winter or the Full Crust Moon, because the snow cover becomes crusted from thawing by day and freezing at night and the Full Sap Moon, marking the time of tapping maple trees.

The rhododendrons are in full bloom, pinks and fuchsia. The live oaks are leafed out in bright, shimmering yellow-greens, as robins search for food among the blades of newly sprouted grass. The scare-crow is dressed in the garden and the night is heavily scented with the perfume of a thousand orange tree blossoms.  It's these predictable occurrences that lead us to believe that since we are rooted to this planet, that life on this planet is also predictable.  It's only natural that earth dominates our perception and perspective of our universe. This is how we base our concepts of time. In reality to look at time another way: all change and movement; each and every idea, thought, event, and interval; all matter, energy, and space occurring in the universe are part of, and connected in, the sequential process of existence.  In other words every movement, every idea, every event affects each following event. Native American teachings inspire that we are all connected. You are a part of me. I am a part of you but also the trees are a part of us as well as the flowers, the dew, the fog, the clouds, the raindrops, the rivers, the oceans. My actions affect the actions of the ducks upon my lawn and their actions affect mine.  We live within a sequential process, in real-life, i.e. multiple events occurring one after another. The measure of this is to determine when the first event occurred. Knowing at this point in our knowledge and understanding that theoretically this is impossible to determine, is our existence timeless?  Nature provides us with a map. Nature offers us solutions based on timeless knowledge. As we remove the cellophane from the tomatoes upon the green foam dish, or pour a glass of milk from the cardboard box with the plastic twist top, as we catch a bite to eat at the local drive through or spend another hour in front of the computer with its animated ocean screensaver, should we ask ourselves if we're lost in limbo between what is real and unreal upon our journey around the sun?  The butterfly expects that her egg will birth into a caterpillar. The caterpillar is a promise of a butterfly, but what actually happens depends upon sequential occurrence.

Space traveler, how do your actions affect others, the land, your planet-ship, your universe?  Mitakuye Oyasin-Lakota Sioux for, All My Relations, is a simple prayer of oneness and harmony with all forms of life: other people, animals, birds, insects, trees and plants, and even rocks. This prayer reminds us that we are all connected in all aspects of Creation-nature and that we share a common kinship in the Universe of Life. With each occurrence we are sequentially interconnected and affected by each other and every aspect of our Universe.

Space traveler: Be compassionate and humanitarian. Be fair-minded. Seek beauty. Seek harmony and balance. Learn by observing the stars, the storms, the moon, the tides, the misting rains. Nurture your kinship back to nature, third planet from the sun.

You're intelligent, caring, and conscientious. You wouldn't throw a cigarette butt out of the car window.  You wouldn't pour waste products into the lake or river adjacent to your home. You always make certain that you properly put out your campfire. You would never leave beer bottles and trash behind. You recycle. You buy recycled greeting cards and other environment friendly products. You feel you are doing your part in your own way. But are you aware of the real shape we're in? 

Do you know there are less than 50 Florida Panthers are living in the wild? Do you know that early this century the number of Black Bears in Florida numbered roughly 11,000 and now Black Bear numbers are reported to be between 500 and 1500?  Did you know that Florida has the second highest number of listed endangered and threatened species of any state? Are you aware that one hundred and twelve species are listed Threatened or Endangered just here in the state of Florida? If we were to include that complete 112 listings, this column would read five pages long. We are listing only the Endangered species for sake of space.

USFWS Endangered Species System (TESS) - Status Species/Listing Name: Listed species (based on published population data) -- 112 listings. Animals -- 57

E  Bat, gray (Myotis grisescens)

E  Beetle, American burying (Nicrophorus americanus)

E  Butterfly, Schaus swallowtail (Heraclides aristodemus ponceanus)

E  Crocodile, American (Crocodylus acutus)

E  Curlew, Eskimo (Numenius borealis)

E  Darter, Okaloosa (Etheostoma okaloosae)

E  Deer, key (Odocoileus virginianus clavium)

E  Kite, Everglade snail FL pop. (Rostrhamus sociabilis plumbeus)

E  Manatee, West Indian (Trichechus manatus)

E  Moccasinshell, Gulf (Medionidus penicillatus)

E  Moccasinshell, Ochlockonee (Medionidus simpsonianus)

E  Mouse, Anastasia Island beach (Peromyscus polionotus phasma)

E  Mouse, Choctawhatchee beach (Peromyscus polionotus allophrys)

E  Mouse, Key Largo cotton (Peromyscus gossypinus allapaticola)

E  Mouse, Perdido Key beach (Peromyscus polionotus trissyllepsis)

E  Mouse, St. Andrew beach (Peromyscus polionotus peninsularis)

E  Panther, Florida (Puma (=Felis) concolor coryi)

E  Pigtoe, oval (Pleurobema pyriforme)

E  Pocketbook, shinyrayed (Lampsilis subangulata)

E  Rabbit, Lower Keys marsh (Sylvilagus palustris hefneri)

E  Rice rat lower FL Keys (Oryzomys palustris natator)

E  Sawfish, smalltooth (Pristis pectinata)

E  Sea turtle, green FL, Mexico nesting pops. (Chelonia mydas)

E  Sea turtle, hawksbill (Eretmochelys imbricata)

E  Sea turtle, Kemp's ridley (Lepidochelys kempii)

E  Sea turtle, leatherback (Dermochelys coriacea)

E  Seal, Caribbean monk (Monachus tropicalis)

E  Sparrow, Cape Sable seaside (Ammodramus maritimus mirabilis)

E  Sparrow, Florida grasshopper (Ammodramus savannarum floridanus)

E  Stork, wood AL, FL, GA, SC (Mycteria americana)

E  Sturgeon, shortnose (Acipenser brevirostrum)

E  Three-ridge, fat (mussel) (Amblema neislerii)

E  Vole, Florida salt marsh (Microtus pennsylvanicus dukecampbelli)

E  Whale, finback (Balaenoptera physalus)

E  Whale, humpback (Megaptera novaeangliae)

E  Whale, right (Balaena glacialis (incl. australis))

E  Wolf, gray lower 48 States, except MN and where XN; Mexico (Canis lupus)

E  Woodpecker, red-cockaded (Picoides borealis)

E  Woodrat, Key Largo (Neotoma floridana smalli) 

You may access the complete list at: http://ecos.fws.gov/tess_public/StateListing.do?status=listed&state=FL
 

Facts are boring. Stats are mind numbing, but without them we're unable to gauge our situation. If your child has a fever you'll get out a thermometer to gauge the heat of that fever, wouldn't you? You wouldn't take a look at the child, determine she's hot and then simply hand her a couple of Tylenol. It is necessary to figure out the bigger picture. What is her temperature? Why does she have a fever? How serious is this fever? How do you treat that fever based on the information you have acquired?

Recent statistics from Sierra and NPG show Florida is now the leading state for urban sprawl. When the Sierra Club rated cities on sprawl, Florida had the largest presence of any state. Ft. Lauderdale ranked ninth among the "most sprawled threatened cities" of one million or more. Florida loses 860 acres of its forests and farmlands to development each month. Tampa-St. Petersburg area ranked eight out of the one-hundred largest U.S. Urbanized Areas by square miles of sprawl the Land Area Data derived from the U.S. Census Bureau's report on Urbanized Areas, between 1970-1990.  "In Florida, many acres of forest or agricultural land are converted to new developments. One study (Powers, 1990) indicated about 30,000 acres are developed each year in Florida. Florida developers seek permits for development plans that often exceed 1,000 acres and occasionally more than 10,000 acres. Historically, developments are designed to maximize buildable lots to maximize potential profit. This design strategy often compromises natural land features that enhance the community environment." (Florida Solar Energy Center (FSEC)

Wouldn't it be a lot easier to stick our heads in the sand?  That way we wouldn't have to be faced with reality. We do what we do and so be it for the rest.  But ignorance is no excuse for turning a blind eye. Solutions must be created for balance, growth, progress, restoration. Education and awareness is necessary to contribute to the maintenance and equilibrium of our environment. You may be feeling, I can't solve all the problems of the state of Florida. You may feel that there is nothing you can do to change things now anyway. Nothing can be farther from the truth. It only takes one person to get involved. It only takes one issue addressed, one question to a politician or government agency. It only takes one of you. You are the only one that can make a difference.  You hold the key to responsible actions for the future. You are the only one that can save the panther, the black bear and the snail kite.  You are the only one that can help restore balance…back to nature.

If you talk to the Animals, they will talk with you.

And you will know each other.

If you do not talk to them, you will not know them.

And what you do not know you will fear,

What one fears…One destroys.

-Chief Dan George
 

While viewing a cute, little baby panda at the zoo, the cuddly ball of fur - infant tiger or the human-like newborn chimpanzee, it's difficult for us to imagine that someday that cute baby will grow up to be a hunter, provider…a wild animal. It's comfortable to anthropomorphize the animals around us, in other words; attribute human characteristics to animals. How easy it is for us to forget that Muffy and Buffy are not just dogs and cats, but are domesticated wild animals. They don't desire to build a robot, explore Mars or impress colleagues with the brand of coffee they drink. They don't sit around contemplating, If only I could have the biggest dog house in the neighborhood. Hmmm…how nice would it be to own that brand new, bright yellow Hummer. Hey, that neighbor over there has a bigger and brighter collar than me or I think I will lay here all day plotting and scheming how to get back at my littermate who got to go to the park today instead of me. Those things only happen in cartoons created by human minds. Except for primates, animals in a natural setting don't conceive greed, hatred, spite, vengeance, unkindness, nastiness or malevolence. We humans may perceive their behavior in these terms but they are acting on instinct, fear, hunger, danger and the power of learned techniques for the long term survival of the species.

Animal behavior is governed by three basic motives: 1) to find food, 2) to avoid predators, and 3) to reproduce. Consider: If you are eatable, I will eat you. If you are challenging me, I will either walk away in peace or fight you for the sake of the herd, pack leadership and/or survival. I am here to find food, avoid my predators, make a family, provide for and protect that family. This doesn't mean animals don't experience joy, happiness and a sense of well being. It means that whatever an animal does involves action and response to stimulation. Canines understand the concept of freedom, food, social contact and reproduction. Take a look at the complex social life of Wolves.

Wolves form groups called "packs," which are typically composed of a dominant mated pair, their offspring, and an assortment of other adults, often with some genetic relationship to the "first family." A wolf pack is a highly organized and complex social structure. Pack members live within a rigid hierarchy and the rules of that hierarchy must be obeyed. This structure determines who will eat first and thus insure the safety and survival of the pack. When they go for a major hunt, they keep in touch through howling. Howling is a very important part of communicating with the community. The pack behavior extends to care of the young. Cubs are never left alone and wolves will often care for other wolves' young, bringing them food and guarding them from danger. They work as an efficient team for the good of the family.

Unlike humankind, in the world of wolves: No position is of less worth than another is. Each place has a responsibility, which is of equal importance for the pack to operate as a team. This is a difficult concept for humans to grasp. Words such as rank, dominant and domineering are human concepts, i.e. "I am of a higher rank, a more intelligent being, my words are to be followed, I am in control and I am the leader. I'm plotting against you. I will punish you. I will spite you with no regard for the well being of my pack," are notions owned by humans. In the world of the canine, no such concepts exist.

Alpha animals "rule" the other pack members through a series of dominant gestures and sounds. This intricate social order is not kept in place by some misguided sense of insecurity, but by a rigid structure through which they use in order to survive, as they depend on each and every other member of the pack for food. An alpha wolf pair mate until one dies or falls ill then the healthy mate will find another mate. If two wolves have a difference of opinion, they generally draw back their lips, displaying what they hope to be a grand show of teeth. They growl, sneer and make every attempt to "out show" each other's fierceness. If the challenging individual is serious in the contest, the higher-ranking animal will be forced to defend his/her position or be usurped. This behavior is more of a ritual than actual fighting and it almost never ends in serious injury. These dominance "rules" help to keep order within the pack and dissuade arguments before they escalate.

In this time of fearful confusing politics, self indulgence, self pity, lack of direction, role models and inflated concepts of worth, humankind could afford to take lessons from the wild wolves seeking stability, responsibility and unity. What one fears…one destroys…back to nature.

A cool breeze stirred through my apartment windows fluttering the blinds while gently beckoning me awake.  I pulled the comforter closer to my chin and peaked out just above to notice the sun beginning to caress the fine oak leaves.  I'd promised myself a canoe trip early this morning but the blankets were so soft and cozy it took all the discipline I could muster to climb out of bed to ready myself. 

The sun had risen above the horizon as I slipped the bow of the canoe into the intercoastal waters. Walking barefoot I effortlessly towed the canoe out of the shallows. The cool sands felt soft against the soles of my feet, the waters barely warm. With paddle balance I climbed into my boat and set out toward a string of islands that dotted one of the channels.  Once in open waters the winds grew strong and waves buffeted the canoe bow causing great splashes and slapping sounds.  It seemed as if I wasn't moving at all until I turned to investigate my distance from the shore and realized the shore had all but disappeared in a gray mist.  It made me smile.  I enjoy it when civilization closes its doors behind me. 

Two dolphins swam nearby playing hide and seek through the waves. So adept and sleek they were it filled my heart with great admiration, me with my paddles plunging deep into the black waters forcing the waters to release me forward, they like satin moving with such finesse and ease, the three of us enjoying the sweet freedom and pure joy of the moment.  

In due course I arrived at my destination, then surveyed the coastline of the island.  Discovering a sheltered cove, I set anchor.  The shore was lined with whelk shells and purple sea urchin waters.  I picked my route carefully from one soft sandy spot to another until I found a place to settle in for a while.  Looking back toward the mainland I felt a leap of excitement come over my heart and at the same time a moment of quiet loneliness. This second feeling surprised me.  I relish being alone so was curious.  Allowing the sensation to wind its way through my mind, almost in question, I slowly realized that the source of this emotion was in the desire to share such a special place with someone that would appreciate this moment as much as I: soaking in every detail, sea breezes upon my skin, the turquoise sky peaking through the tangled mangrove branches, the pure whiteness of the sun bleached shells, the scent of salt, the chatter of birds, the lapping rhythm of the waves, barnacles clinging together in sharp clumps (future sea life condominiums), the absence of voices, the lack of busy turmoil, undisturbed sand dunes, the sun upon my shoulders, past and future memories.  These are the moments I cling to when there seems no hope. These are the memories that promise life is worth living whether walking beside another or standing in peaceful quiet alone. 

I shared an early lunch with a brazen seagull who greatly appreciated the tuna fish sandwich. The sun rose higher in the sky, heat reflecting from the white sands in shimmering veils.  As tiny crabs grew accustomed to my presence, they relentlessly searched for scattered bits and pieces to steal away down into their hideaways. I decided it was time to head back before the waters blossomed with weekend boaters and fishermen.  Although it was with a pang in my heart to leave these calm surroundings to return to the hustle and bustle of community life, canoeing in such disturbed waters was often difficult and unpleasant.  I packed my things for home.

I realized as I reached open waters that the current was rushing into shore. With only a few lazy twists of my paddle I was able to sit back and enjoy the free ride, which took me to almost exactly where I'd set out hours before.  With a mischievous smile upon my face, like a kid with a secret, I climbed onto shore rested and ready to plan for another adventure back to nature.  

Sun sparkles on lily pads of burgundy and deep greens against the mirrored waters reflecting my hand, my arm, my paddle, the pale green of my canoe, a loose strand of red rope, the violet in my shirt, the sun in my red hair.  We are here together, canoe and I, moving as one, under the sun, winds change our face, rains on our shoulders, diamonds on eyelashes, smooth wet skin, canoe breaking surface, moving as one under clouds, darkening and heavy, waves at the bow, breaking against the sides, holding on strong, paddle pushes us forward with every plunged stroke, moving as one out to the open, silver sea.

I'd checked the tide, high.  I'd checked the forecast, storm coming off shore.  I knew my window, slight risk, I thought, but I'm strong and looking forward to a bit of adventure. 

As I slid the canoe over damp grass and soaked sands, the clouds were slowly building in the distance.  The canoe was packed with lunch, tarp, dry socks, pen and journal.  I'd planned on riding the storm out sheltered on an island to return later in the day. 

The canoe moved swiftly out of the bay.  As I approached the channel I could see that it would be a challenge to maneuver the height of the waves.  What I hadn't calculated was the strength of the winds that were preceding the storm.  The island seemed a vanishing image as the winds lifted the waves even higher.  Skies directly above remained turquoise, no sign of the storm there but the waters knew.  Believe in myself.  Believe in your dreams. Reach for your goal.  Again and again I attempted to force the canoe through the waves, zigging, zagging without making headway.  We were at a standstill.  I hated, resented this force that would impede my goal.  I lowered myself into the bottom of the boat, leaning forward as far as possible and still be able to pull a stroke.  Waves slammed the sides of the canoe with such force we rocked back and forth. Into wave, zig around wave, zag, slap, slap, no headway.  The resolution that canoe and I were no match against this force began to slowly sink in.  I wasn't tired, but needed to rethink my purpose.  It's difficult for me to submit.  I believe as long as I can take a breath, if determination counts for anything, it is still within me to push onward.  Perhaps it's my stubborn nature?  I believe I can "fix" almost anything and reach almost any goal.  Sometimes the goal itself takes on more importance than the journey.  This is when I've lost the battle I guess.  One mindedness that loses sight loses purpose. 

Submit.  Let it go. Change course.  Admit that no matter how much I give, it will never be enough.  This is the Zen of life, the Zen of canoeing.  Turn with the tide, flow into the shore, give of yourself, accept peace. Our island can't be reached. Is only a vision in the distance? How logical it all is.  How the pieces fit.  How it all makes sense…all the lessons I've learned…the paths we have walked…all the tears we have cried…and the dreams we've all lost.  All the strength I should have…all the courage you can muster… all the words and promises….all the goodbyes that are given….how the hours have passed…how I should have known better, submit.  Let it go. Winds change our face, rains on our shoulders, diamonds on eyelashes, smooth wet skin, moving as one under darkening clouds, holding on strong, heading for shore as one, canoe and I out on the open silver sea. 

Embrace me winds.

Salt my skin.

Me a part of the sea.

Reflect the color of my eyes in your skies.

Taste your clouds upon my lips.
 

Embrace me winds.

Pressing against me so gentle while

Walking against you

Remember my voice in your breeze.

Steel my thunder with your storms.
 

Embrace me winds

Embrace me.

Walk with me in sandaled feet

Upon your changing shore.

Sea gulls in ballet suspended

In your arms free form,
 

Embrace me winds.