Into the Blue

     One can not say they love a place until they have spent time there. I can not say I would love to live in England, because I can only imagine what it might be like. I can not say I would love to live in Australia or Italy, for I have never experienced life inside their borders. But I can say that I love Franklin County, Florida. It is not my home, but I left my heart inside of its limits the summer of 2011 to explore the wild world of marine biology.
     Apalachicola Bay sits in the heart of the Florida's panhandle under the blazing southern sun. It's a small town full of fishermen and scientists, park rangers and wildlife. The estuary is teaming with life, the rivers with manatees. Everything is beautiful in its own special, somewhat unconventional way. It takes a certain type of person to fully appreciate it.
     From the first dip in the waters, my snorkeling fins bobbing in the waves, I was hopelessly in love. Swimming over the sea grass beds in the quiet of water filled ears was other worldly. I was entranced in the complexity of it all, yet somehow hypnotized by its simplicity at the same time. Nothing mattered in the water, only my subtle breathing was audible and the steady beating of my heart as I swam.
     Tiny fish came up to greet me, so close and real. Sea grass brushed my arms and legs, a gentle endless wave of motion. I tried to take it all in, freeze the moment in a memory and store it in the safest place. Days were spent this way, snorkeling in the beds of oceanic greenery and pristine, sugary sand bars. It was magic on Earth.

     At night, when the tides were low, we'd venture out at midnight, below the moon and strikes of purple lightning, to collect our specimens which so happened to be blue crabs. Blue crabs are terribly violent and extremely difficult to deal with. Collecting them was a challenge, but we somehow managed to catch a whopping forty-two. Below our feet, they'd nip at our tennis shoes and we would stalk across the dagger sharp oyster bars in search of our prey. 
     One night, as we set out to collect, we heard a funny call not unlike a seagull. It happened to be a baby alligator following us on our trek in the estuary. Afraid of its mother coming for us, we hurriedly turned back and marched to the shore through the water, too afraid to step in the grassy banks for the copperheads. Never does the fun end.

     After two weeks, we left this place, venturing down to Crystal River to dive into its icy waters with the manatees. In the murky water filled with hydrilla, we awaited the sea cows patiently. Suddenly I felt something slick and wet beneath my legs and began to rise out of the water. Fear shot through my mind at first, but not for long. Laughter burst from my mouth as I realized I was being picked up by a manatee. 
     I often think of Florida. Those memories I shall cherish forever and never will forget. As I write this, I know I will be on my way there again tomorrow, for another trip to the Florida State Marine Lab to make more memories and have new experiences. The snails I am to experiment on await me anxiously, as I await Florida with inexplicable excitement.

Magenta House

 

We are curious beings, all at once trying to be special but striving to fit in to a social cookie cutter. The difficult balance is sometimes shaky and some may fall. But those who do not worry about this balance tend to succeed in extraordinary ways. These are the people who are remembered. The ones who paint their house magenta for all the world to see. 

      While driving down a cozy lane in a country town, with quaint homes, open hearths and creaky rocking chairs swaying in the breeze, I often wonder why the pallet of human kind is so very limited. In the typical modern neighborhood, color is often subtle and likely to sooth rather than surprise. But isn't this boring? Why is it we find it necessary to blend in and feel comfortable? Whoever said we had to be so very neutral? And those who dare are judged.

      Those who have the courage to stand beside their brilliantly colored house would stand alone. Their rainbow palace would shine among their fellow, quieter cousins. The house would be mocked, yet some would admire the flare which it would bare. Some would be disgusted at the colorful spectacle, and others jealous at the nerve to paint it with such bold strokes. With the courage to stand out must come the ability to accept harsh criticism and ignore unfair judgement. 

      But what if our typical neighborhood transformed itself into bright hues of magenta and canary yellow set against violet and bursting orange? There would be color everywhere in the world. It may not be calming, but who wants to be calm when life is exciting? Our society is set into the dull tones of what it has become accustomed. A wave of change would spray adventure on the sands of our culture.

     By nature, we are creatures of habit. We fall into patterns and sometimes never escape their grasps. It is in our mindset to blend in. But I say, stand out. Be who you are, not who you, or others, feel you should be. Hold true to yourself. Paint your house magenta and live in it. 

Hello Strange World

     Hello strange world.

     For as long as I can remember, I have had an insatiable desire for knowledge. I believe we are meant to attempt understanding, even though we will never know the answers to the questions which feed our curiosity. It is with this drive that we might improve ourselves and better not only our brief and insignificant lives, but impact the ever changing world around us. Who are we to set a boundary on the things we can't even understand?
     The endless see of velvet ebony in which we float is vast and overwhelming. We are meant to reach out into its twilit depths and play with ideas some would think impossible. But is anything impossible? I think if you truly believe in something then it is real. At least it is real in your mind. Thoughts are real, yet intangible, so why can't this hold true for beliefs? Are they not stored in our thoughts? 
     Humans tend to forget the power of imagination and the beauty it can hold as we grow older. The mind of children is every playing with the world of make believe without question. Maybe we would do good to hold onto this mindset, to be able to believe again. Where there is belief, there is hope. Adults often lose hope too quickly.