Dear Beloved Sanibel...

         Dear Sanibel,

        It is heartbreak and anguish to see you shattered and broken. More heartbreak to ponder the human toll in the physical devastation. Dreams gone, homes, jobs life as normal wiped out.

        My pain is in memories only. Family vacations, anniversaries, book launches, special celebrations, times with friends and the dreams you launched. 

        Our girls grew up counting down until spring vacation and our escape from gray, cold and dark mid-west winters; there was excitement even in the wait until we could jet away. 

        We sensed life was kind when we first drove onto the causeway and felt the gulf breeze. So many years, so many of life's great moments, there on your shell tossed sandy beaches and under your thick canopy.

        Year after year Lana and I would walk your shore, being healed by the sun and Gulf, and be recharged to plunge back into life and careers.

        We watched as dear friends created a business, and converted a corner into an art and hospitality peace, and a piece of paradise. We watched our goddaughter grow as an island girl. We slept on the shop floor in our early vists and took pride in what Barb and Dave created.

        All of those grill nights, dinners at Jean Paul's, the Bubble Room, Mc T's and more. All of the laughter.

       Then precious Sanibel, you were where we planned to retire, and so we bought a house, and our dreams took hold. 

        In time our daughter moved there, we spent more vacation visits adding to the years of cherished time.

        My Sanibel Arcanum and The Sanibel Cayman Disc books were published and you helped me celebrate the success. The clippings and interviews and video tape reports now live in the archives of the Indiana Historical Society. All of those wonderful parties and book signings saved for the future.

        It was not about you, nothing about your tropical charm, but we changed focus. Our retired life was to be in California, another coast, another life, but so fondly and sweetly we remembered you, and our dear friends there and the thousands of memories. 

        Now we grieve. We are lucky, the memories remain. You dear precious Sanibel face another daunting time of rebuilding, repair, re-greening and rebirth so you can again be a haven of hope, laughter, peace, and memories. 

        We are sorrowed by the task that faces not only your communities, but the thousands of individual lives that have been altered.

        The Sanibel of my memory and the Sanibel of my novels was changing, as life does. But no one who has enjoyed your magic, your wildlife and wild nature, your devotion to the environment and love of birds can forget how special you were, and that was never to change. Nature will comeback. Ding Darling will again be a refuge and so too will you, precious Sanibel. You rare, east-west, barrier reef island, walking in the Gulf, you have endured for centuries, have taken hits, and have changed, but you always come back. 

        But for now, we hurt, we hurt for you. 

       See you down the trail.

RESPECTING NATURE'S ELDERS

THEY DESERVE MORE RESPECT

I am, literally, a tree hugger.  Years ago I learned 

 a native practice for young men. Sorry to report I can't recall which tribal nation.

  It requires standing in the spring with your spine aligned  with a tree that is of your relative age. You put your arms behind you, encircle the tree and clasp your hands.  

This is done at a time of year when the sun and damp earth create an awakening and budding in the tree.

The idea is to sense or feel the energy flow along your spine

and to be "one" with the tree. In the practice, the

young brave stood for hours.  I've been a piker by

comparison but it is something I try to do each spring,

though young is no longer an apt description.

I think of trees as a kind of planetary elder.

I am in awe and marvel at the age and size

of redwoods and sequoias.

I've been to this point before.

A story through-line and subtext of my

second book, THE SANIBEL CAYMAN DISC,

deals with development vs. nature

and how civilization interacts with the environment.

Those under pin the surface story, the black market

in chemical and biological weapons.

I tell you this so you know my bias when

I say old trees deserve respect.

These are scenes of a recent cutting of

eucalyptus trees in Cambria.  I understand

 eucalyptus trees are fire hazards. But when a tree, still healthy, gets to this age, what is gained from felling it?  This cutting occurred on public land,

near to a trail and at a great distance from power lines. 

Smaller trees nearby were left standing.  In fact

there are many in the area that should be

pruned.  Thinning also makes sense.  I am not averse

to sound forest management practices and indeed

there are areas of the Central Coast where work needs to be done.  I am left wondering though, why an ancient tree, posing no threat needs to be felled.

I'm sure there is an official rationale.

 I've heard such explanations before and 

often they are narrow minded and usually involve

funding. 

Maybe I'm wrong headed, and overly sentimental

on the value of a tree.  But how many people do you 

know who survive to 150, 300 or even 2,500 years?

See you down the trail.