July, 19, 2010
Orange Beach, FL
For well over two decades, a trip to a beach was considered a part of what was designated as a "vacation" for me--whether for relaxation, sermon planning, to complete a writing project, or a mixture of these and other purposes. During the last 15 years, the beach visited has been a point somewhere along the Gulf Shore. Walking on the beach is like breathing fresh air.
An early morning walk on the beach can be therapy for many ailments as well as inspiration for a day or a year. My favorite way to write and plan is to work a while inside at a desk and to walk a while outside on a beach, repeating the process several times each day. The chemistry is magical. Even when down or depressed, while enjoying a walk on the beach ideas come more easily, words flow more lucidly, and plans take on greater clarity.
Sights on the beach stay in my mind and feed my soul for a long time--
- the first golden-orange rays of a great bright sphere just edging over a horizon, then hiding behind a distant hotel before lifting higher to a spot squeezed between cloud banks that pickup its rays and fling them across the ocean like fireworks shooting across a night time sky, and finally softly and silently rising toward the peak from which it gives us a whole sky filled with warm, life-giving light;
- a walk along that line where sand and water meet at the fullest stretch of an incoming wave, watching the suddenly soaked sand dry quickly as the wave recedes carrying with it a variety of shells that did not find their habitat in the sand, enjoying the thrill of the sight of two sting rays rushing toward the beach as if they would lift right out of the water before turning sharply in the water to head to greater depths before making another run at the shore, delighting in the haunting sounds of sea gulls soaring overhead while looking aghast at other birds dive-bombing into the water in search of a fish for a meal, awe-struck staring at three dolphins gracefully making their way through the water, appreciatively observing a crane or pelican strutting down the beach before awkwardly lifting into the air, smiling as a large school of tiny fish sweep into the front of a wave and then scurry away from the shore for safety.
I remember the dark blue water of Orange Beach which sometimes blends with turquoise streams defining beauty. I recall strong but placid water stilling surging emotions. I never will forget the fear induced by churning, wild water in the Gulf on the morning before Katrina came roaring ashore.
But this year is different, different from all of that. Sea gulls are scarce. The lush sand and soothing sounds of waves lapping at the shore have been replaced by deep ruts of sand bearing the imprints of large machines, trucks, and jeeps the sounds of which are louder than the waves. The panorama of water reaching as far as one can see has been replaced by water splashing against oil tanks, ships skimming oil, and barges carrying equipment. Sun bathers are few in number, but workers in orange work-suits are plentiful--not working, but serving as public relation agents for the BP oil company.
Yesterday I got excited because I saw a crane. Today excitement came from seeing three fish near the shore--three. Watching for oil-created tar balls along the beach has replaced looking for the perfect shaped shell.
What has happened? What have we done? What all have we killed?
Oh, I know it was a mistake. Drilling for oil in the Gulf makes us less dependent on Middle East oil and creates jobs for workers that feed families and pay taxes. It is a complex situation. But, I keep thinking about creation. Who speaks for God's creation? Who is an advocate for the dolphins?
Jewish Scriptures tell us that the earth and all that is within it belong to God, though God entrusted the care of it all to us. No wonder the Christian Scriptures tell us that not to protect the waters, fish, sting rays, pelicans, and cranes as well as the wetlands and beaches is a sin. I understand as never before the Apostle Paul’s comment about a creation that groans for redemption.
Suddenly my gratitude for the life and beauty of this Gulf turned into repentance for the ugliness and death we have inflicted on it.
Welton
