Living on the Pacific Ocean we are acutely aware of the fragility
of this enormous body of water.
Usually, we are anchored in natural bays rocking gently, and
sometimes not so gently, to the motion of the ocean. We roll with the swells and bounce in the
short chop. The anchor rode is pulled taut
when a squall blows through. The sound
of the surf on the beach lulls us to sleep and awakens us in the morning. We spend most of our time outside, aware of
minute changes in air temperature and humidity.
We look over the side of the boat and decide to swim or not based on the
clarity and temperature of the water.
We’ve seen dolphins and whales swim through an
anchorage. We watch as small fish clean
the bottom of our boat by eating the algae growth. Offshore, we marvel at the paddling turtles,
dolphins frolicking across our bow, and breeching whales. Pelicans and frigates are our constant
air-borne companions.
On this day about 25 of us gathered on the beach in La Cruz
to honor Mother Earth by picking up trash.
We fanned out and walked about ½-mile to a natural breakwater and then
retraced our steps picking up what we missed the first time. Our bags fill with plastic caps, bottles,
candy wrappers, paper, Styrofoam chunks, fishing line, all things foreign to a
fish or turtle or bird that might ingest them.
All of us who gathered have reduced our footprints. We make our own water, use solar panels and wind generators to create electricity. We’ve chosen to live off the grid and feel good about making a minuscule dent in protecting our planet, making a difference in our neighborhood.
When we finish, the organizers build a bon fire and serve us tacos on Styrofoam plates and beverages in plastic cups. Amazingly talented musicians perform music written just for this occasion, celebrating our oneness with our plant. The irony is not lost on us.
