Testimonial

I have not read or seen the news for a month.  I know nothing recent about football scores, fiscal cliffs or the Mayan apocalypse.  The wheels are still turning on Wall Street, Main Street and in chain store America.  I am far from the hustle and bustle on a sea journey through a timeless land.

Here I am in a place where life breathes in and out in a predictable pattern, in a slower rhythm.
Horseshoe crab, eels and sea urchins shimmer through the seagrass.   Sun and moon rise and set in an age old pattern directing the ebb and flow of the tides.  The endless salt marshes provide a haven a rookery for seabirds and alligators. The winds blow strong and softly through, bringing rain, breathing life.

I travel with the blood of my ancestors coursing through my veins.  Those same adventurers who left their homes to settle a new wild land.  I bring their sense of wonder, their yearning to see what is around the next bend.

The hardships experienced are minute placed beside the joys encountered:

• Sleeping through freezing cold nights in a tent
• ...watching the sun sparkle like jewels on the surface of the water
• Trudging with boats and gear to a launch point through a mile of sand exposed by a minus tide
• ...watching the undulating wave of a flock of pelicans flying on the wind currents
• Fearfully racing through the water with 3 foot swells washing over the deck and a 25 mph wind at my back
• ...being treated to Southern hospitality in towns like Steinhatchee and Suwannee.
• Paddling 1 to 2 miles straight out to sea to find water deep enough to paddle in
• ...standing with friends, minute in a wilderness of marsh and hammock, watching the sun set in a brilliant blaze of color while the full moon rises at our backs.  Later, marveling at the skeleton shapes of tree and shadows in the moonlight.

As I paddle through this land, I am an one with all that surrounds me.  I am the wind blowing from every direction.  I am the flock of a thousands bird taking flight from the water in deafening sound.  I am the seagrass providing a haven and rookery for myriad forms of life.  I am the silence of the moss festooned tannin rivers, eroded cedars roots reaching down into the still waters.  I am the laughing call of the loon echoing through the fog.  I am the arching pod of dolphins, gently puffing as they rise through the glassy, still waters of the bay.

I am also mankind, in his need for livelihood and sustenance, who has left his scars on land and sea:

• A paper mill on a once pristine river that for decades spewed black, acrid smelling water into the gulf. The water blackened our boats and surrounded us for miles beyond the mouth of the river.
• Dying cedar tree groves at the edges of the marsh, sentries to rising sea levels brought on by global warming.
• Jet engine roaring airboats scaring anxious flocks of sea birds into flight.  
• Litter carelessly discarded in the water and on the land.

I am witness.  Slow breath in, breath out...this land is our foundation. As the world spins at a dizzying pace, may this wilderness remain unspoiled for our children's children.