REPORT: December 25, 2010 - 9:30am

CHRISTMAS DAY

Winter on the beach is very special to me because it's mine. And T. OCEAN's too, yes. It is windy, desolate and spare. Visitor's do appear, but only for the requisite time to see the water, take a photo, then leave. The Happy Spider still keeps her perch in the mangroves. The gulls flock together by type - seagull, laughing gull. Tiny sandpipers stay busy digging morsels of food out of the sand. Plastic bits sticking up out of the windswept ground flap in the air. The shore break is groomed clean of all seaweed. Bits of driftwood are easier to find. The lifeguard reads. And the occasional winter swell bring small but welcomed waves to local surfers.

T. OCEAN brings his "snowboarders" - 2 plastic army men, 1 green, 1 beige, both found on the beach on previous visits - and drops himself onto the ground plunging the little men into the sand they perform outrageous flips and big airs. They have been transformed into a snowy terrain filled with mountains and blown up tracks. He's gone, escaping into his own winter wonderland.

I am waiting for the man-o-war to appear. With them ride glaucous - the strange blue slug with tiny appendages for arms that float upside down. The beach was sprinkled with them 2 years ago having washed up with the jellies. I haven't seen them since then. Still I do see pelicans hunting on the water, turkey vultures dancing in the sky, and large schools of fish skimming over the waves in the distance. Life rolling on.

With our human absence the beach sighs, takes a breath. Like letting the field go fallow she is allowed to rest only to return to sow and draw from again come spring. She is quiet. All is calm. All is bright.


Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

REPORT: December 2, 2010 - 4:45pm

Winter in South Florida brings out the scavengers. The lizards and butterflies hide out while raccoons and turkey buzzards appear.

Bundled up on the beach, T. OCEAN and I are the only ones around except the lifeguard waiting for the 5:00 hour -- standing on the stairs, sweatshirt on, gear packed, face in the sun. A couple appears to the north and photograph themselves in front of the ocean-as-backdrop, then leave. I pull my hood over my head and lie back, eyes to the sky. The expanse is so blue and without end it makes my head feel like it's being crushed, dizzy with space. Into the frame flying high is a turkey buzzard, then another. I look to my left, north -- a swirl of buzzards are heading south plowing through the pale blue space. They appear to be in random formation. A slow-moving tornado of birds, group after group of them migrating to where I haven't a clue. Black specks in the distance, black bird over-head then black spinning specks again.

By it's very (human) desolation the beach in winter can be for me at its most personal and real. Altogether too humanly real when lying down I can also now see at ground level the immensity of scraps of plastic sticking up out of the wind-swept sand. It's everywhere as far as the eye can see!! No space unclaimed in the evening raking light.

I look back up, and return my focus to the sky.


Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

REPORT: November 25, 2010 - THANKSGIVING DAY

Both T. OCEAN and I woke at the same time this morning, well before C. LEV. So after shaking off the sleep, I sat down on the small cushion I use to meditate and placed another next to me encouraging T. OCEAN to take a seat to my right. He did. And continued to listen and understand when I prompted him to fold his legs over - just like we do in yoga - then rest his hands upon his knees. He did. He lost me on the breathing part, but followed me in his own 3 year-old mind when I said, "now let's say 'thank you for'...and 'thank you to'...the sun, the sky, Grandma and Grandpa, Nonno and Yaya, everything we have, the ocean....and there began his long and joyous list of animals who live in the sea. When I failed to repeat "sting ray", he reiterated it several times, eyes gazing upward at me waiting until I said, "yes, sting ray".

It was a start.

And it was sweet to me to see what it is my son thinks of when we say "thank you". Today, I am grateful for the ability to walk down to the beach TWICE; to spend some of the day with my love; and all of the day with my little boy who will, eventually, grow up and find other wonderful people to celebrate the holiday with - there's no doubt he'll branch out.

On the first visit out around noon, I noticed that the beach had been meticulously cleaned - not a shred of seaweed in sight. The posted 80 degrees was puzzling as it felt remarkably colder by at least 3 degrees - my body now accustomed to sensing water temperature fairly accurately. But by the second visit around 5:00, the water actually seemed warmer! The sun having almost set, however, kept us on shore.

Well, if we don't have our families nearby, at least we have each other -- and the beach.


Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

REPORT: November 18, 2010 - 4pm

Too much has passed since I last wrote, yet nothing stood still, least of all the ocean. There were days I wanted to write with total excitement about the insane phenomenon we saw...

...thousands, if not millions, of small bate fish washing ashore so that the crest of the waves were nothing but jumping fish, all frantically swimming South. Or the day the waves came on-shore at an amazing 10 - 14 feet high! It looked like Hawaii out there. Surfers were everywhere (and not 1 swimmer). Such AWESOME beauty! I would have loved to go out in it just to feel the strength of the waves against my human size. And then there's the smallest creature who now greets us along the path EVERY day -- a silver and black, shield-shaped spider. We call him (or her) the "Happy Spider", and stop to say "hello" since he is always in the same place -- smack in the middle of his intricate, cross-woven web which is strung in between an open spot amongst the mangrove leaves.

Although there have been days in which there isn't much trash, unfortunately most times the beach is considerably littered with plastic especially along the shoreline. I don't want to focus on it too much because it doesn't seem to help. I pick up what I can (as usual), and go on with the day (and sleep a little better at night). At least the water has been especially clear and clean.

And then there was yesterday...

...around 4 pm, the sun now setting so early in the sky, the water a much cooler temperature (79 degrees) -- T. OCEAN and I play close to the shore break for a short frolic. Out of nowhere and heading South came a group of manta rays - brown on top, white underneath and about 3 to 4 feet long each. Swimming by us the first time was one thing. But they decided to trek back again, retracing their route; then two more returned for one more pass. Perhaps they were feeding. There was certainly plenty of activity (jumping bait fish) and tiny jellyfish around. The ocean was very alive with its animals that did not seem to mind gliding right past a mother and little boy splashing about. Really a great feeling.

I think one of the most magical things about interacting with the ocean daily is what it does for my mind. Between T. OCEAN and the ever-changing world of the sea, I am able to focus on only what is in front of me. In the moment; the here and now as it were. Events such as these leave me feeling very lucky and truly graced to be so close to where nature is unbound and wondrous. I see like a child at these times, and forget my mortality (and the reality of a mother's perpetual to-do list).

Pictures to come....


Until then,
Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

September 22, 2010 - 5pm

The beach had been scraped clean! As if a bulldozer came and pushed away every piece of seaweed and trash in its path. It must have been fairly recent because there weren't even many foot prints on the flattened runway. Pristine. That is until I can see that no amount of cleaning could get all the small fish buried in the sand.

None-the-less, I'm delighted to know that our playground is groomed and looked after.


Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

REPORT: September 20, 2010 - 5pm

Although the beach was noticeably cleaner, there were small, dead bait fish strewn all over the shoreline, especially in the seaweed tracks where the break had come up and receded. Fish heads, fish bodies. It had me wondering -- if this is what came ON shore, exactly how much was out in the water? Those two hurricanes churned up a lot of life.

Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

REPORT: September 18 and 19, 2010

Still an enormous amount of rubbish along the shoreline, but not so overwhelming that I can't pick up a bag-full and feel that it was something. The rip currents continue to be a force greater than T. OCEAN can swim in, so we remain in the shallows and dry sand.

On the way home up the path, we stop and dawdle. Everything is game for interaction to a 3 year old boy.


Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper