REPORT: July 31, 2010 - Saturday - 6pm

OBSERVED: a fairly clean beach over-all; plenty of children everywhere; clearest blue-green water and tons of sea shells all along the water's edge; a pelican floating in the distance watching the schools of fish below; sandpipers scampering across the wet sand for their next meal; T. OCEAN trying out some new swim moves

COLLECTED: nothing


I have decided to pull back from posting (almost) everyday, and instead write only when something specific comes up or happens. Time for me to focus some of that attention on other creative outlets that have been stirring. Stay tuned though, because there's one thing I have learned since starting this -- the ocean (and T. OCEAN) is full of surprises.


In the Meantime, I Remain,
Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

July 30, 2010 - Friday - 6pm

OBSERVED: brewing storm north of us, strong winds out of the south...deciding when to leave as the storm grew overhead, thunder heard, water getting choppy but at least very clear now

COLLECTED: nothing



Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

July 29, 2010 - Thursday - 7:30pm

OBSERVED: the sky; the rippling water which was fairly clear and again very warm

COLLECTED: nothing

July 28, 2010 - Wednesday - 6pm

OBSERVED: very warm water; pesto of seaweed along the shallower water; kids and families all around; a bit of trash

COLLECTED: nothing

Today was the 100th day since the oil disaster started. Although the cap they put on the well head is still holding, there are quite a few more steps to ensure that is permanently closed. Then of course, there's the on-going clean up. Because most of the oil seems to be below the surface (thanks to chemical dispersement), there is a question as to whether South Florida will actually "see" any of the oil come up through the loop current afterall.

As for our evening on the beach, the strangest things were two brown-stained items - a plastic cup and bottle. They held no odor, but were dyed through and through. A few gems from the sea - coral, sea glass, stone, stick, a piece of wood -- "Still Life on Towel."

T. OCEAN and I played in the seaweed-thick water for a while, then he slowly destroyed someone's left-behind sandcastles. I guess one person's sandcastles are another person's demolition.

Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

REPORT: July 26, 2010 - Monday - 6:30pm

OBSERVED: a full moon tonight. Sandpipers have returned. They skirt up and down the beach in cliques, scurrying along the shore's edge for hermit crabs. There was some trash to dispose, but not too bad really.

COLLECTED: nothing


The ocean today was strangely murky. So much seaweed and sea matter had been muddled into tiny ground bits that I couldn't see through to the bottom like I usually can. I had the sensation of being lightly tickled all over from the sea greens, and it honestly was too odd for me to feel comfortable swimming for long. Plus, there were so many fish jumping out of the water, but unlike other days, I could not see the schools swimming by so cloudy was the water.

T. OCEAN and I settled for taking turns going from sand to sea. Makes me realize how fortunate we are for all those other perfectly clear-water days.


Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

REPORT: July 25, 2010 - Sunday - 6pm

OBSERVED: the usual bits of plastic, bottles and cups to be thrown away. I see my neighbor coming up the beach doing the same thing as me - picking up rubbish. We laugh about it, and talk about T. OCEAN for a while.

COLLECTED: nothing


The water was rough enough to play in the shallower water and still get knocked around. T. OCEAN had a blast, and encouraged some other little children watching him to do the same.

We saw two familiar birds - what I had been calling a "blue crane". Luckily my neighbor and her husband told me that they are called Night Herons. At last I have a name - the right one, and a good one at that. They fly so elegantly.


Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper

REPORT: July 24, 2010 - Saturday - 6pm

OBSERVED: my sleeping child

COLLECTED: nothing


An extremely rare moment turns into an hour to relax. I hardly knew what to do with myself since T. OCEAN fell asleep in his stroller on the walk to the beach. So, I parked him on the high sand in the evening shade of the lifeguard tower and went for a swim--by myself. I cannot recall the last time that happened. I could see him clearly from where I was and darted in and out of the waves for a while - the surf had significantly calmed since the storm Bonnie had passed through yesterday. After some time, I rested next to him on a towel while he slept still upright in his stroller completely oblivious to the breeze and sounds of the ocean - a welcome change from the synthesized "ocean sounds" played for him through the night on a "noise machine".

An hour to myself, and finally my mind has taken a welcome break from the constant demands of motherhood AND as Sea Keeper .... I pick up nothing. I notice only the open and welcoming ocean in evening light. Thanks T. OCEAN!

Your,
Little Mama Sea Keeper