Curve of the Planet

Once I went out to Santa Rosa Island very early in the Summer of 2008, exactly two years to the day. The sand was so white it looked like a ski resort near the parking area. I was mystified, scooped up the sand in my hand and filled a small vial for my friends back in the Sonoran Desert where I lived for 20 years. I walked past the dunes, out onto the shore and felt my soul lift up as I viewed this curve of the planet on the horizon above a calm, translucent sea. I could not believe that such a place existed, let alone that it would be my new home. There were birds of all kinds in clusters along the water or diving for silvery flapping fish. Crabs darted in and out of tunnels, sometimes perched with their eyes staring right at me on long stalks, at the ready to plunge out of sight. Men and women were fishing, set up long before dawn, some waist deep in the waves heaving heavy lines far out to snag bonita they told me. Dolphins plied calm blue sea far off shore. Had I known what awaited me I might have turned right around and driven 1000 miles back to Tucson. But I did not and life has thrown a full measure of challenges my way but also love and friendship and many gorgeous days on this treasured place. Now it has been stricken a blow that is altering it forever. I cannot go there because I get sick from its fumes. Where now can I find solace, inspiration, renewal? This must be what the Bible meant by Hell, a condition created on earth by our own doing or non-doing. Well, there is only one way out. Get up, dry the tears, resolve to learn and remember, hold hands, pray together, eat together, love one another and co-create a new reality. For now, that amazing creation – the result of tens of thousands of years of co-creating among many species, and the elements – and which we call Santa Rosa Island, is no more.

Author: Susan Feathers

Family, friends, nature, books, writing, a good pen and journal, freedom of thought, culture, and peaceful co-relations - these are the things that occupy my mind, my heart, my time... View all posts by Susan Feathers