MaMaLiRZ

Written in collaboration with Nico, Biscayne National Park Institute

We’re going to Biscayne

Everyone: Where are you going?

Me: Biscayne National Park.

Everyone: Where?

That is how every conversation started in the last week, regardless of who I talked to, it was, where are you going again? I can’t sit and judge because if it wasn’t for our #quest4in365 (ish), I too would still be asking the same question.

Biscayne National Park, 95% water covered, hosts a myriad of flora and fauna invisible from the surface. Turns out it was a rich man’s playground for years before it was made into a National Park. It’s history sketchy at best and bordering on harvesting illegal activities. Once the remaining Stiltsville houses are gone, it will all be a distant memory, like the Epstein Files.

But do not let this deter your interest. There is a reason it was made a National Park and deserves to be among the favorites. During my quick planning period, I found the Stiltsville saga intriguing. So, I found a snorkel and tour of the park, boat adventure through Biscayne National Park Institute. Nico was our guide and captain for the day. It was the best combination of activities to interest the kids as well as myself. And so we boarded and embarked. The weather was a bit questionable but Nico assured me that our safety was his priority and that we would return to Coconut Grove as soon as it seemed questionable, to ensure we arrive back safely. So, I laid my trust down at his feet and relaxed with my face in the sun and my youngest sleeping in my lap.

As I engaged in a modified Skinrin-yoku, I listened to the boat sputter. Entrancing myself into the orchestral sounds. I could feel the sun’s rays on my face, taste the salt in the air, hear the seagulls flying overhead. A distant rumble of thunder, an airplane’s propulsion, the kids laughter and my exhale. My breath was calm, a horizon of light, a sliver of glow entering the thin sheath of lid. A smile started in my toes and worked its way ever patiently through my belly until it landed on my lips. A small piece of heaven. The two most important people beside me. One holding my hand, while I used my other hand to shield the sun from his brother’s restful eyes.

As the horizon of light grew like the glow of a sunrise, I watched the sky exchanging energy with the sea through a kiss. The clouds emptying into the water far in the distance. A vertical wall of haze linking heaven and earth if only for those moments.

Snorkling

Before long we were at our first snorkeling location. We slathered on the coral safe sunscreen provided by Nico. The sunscreen was so thick it took 5 minutes to smear it across our bodies. But once we did, we looked like melting snowmen, where the only visible life remaining was our clothes and the two coal eyes. Fully protected, we slipped and slid, propelled and launched. Lubed up for life or at least the next 45 minutes, snorkel and fins attached.

The seafloor was only four to six feet away and I could feel the pressure of the salt water and its bouyancy. The floor was covered in seagrass. The clown fish and blue tang fish danced through it all, just like Dory and Nemo. Schools of brightly colored fish changed direction as quickly as a marching band at Friday night’s half time show. Patient and calm we continued gliding along, becoming a witness, yet becoming one with the water. The Christmas tree worms beautifully added purple to the greens and blues, and yellows and oranges. The sea floor was alive.

In a twist, as I pulled back from the amazement of the seafloor dancing in front of me, I noticed as the colors of the sea were muted not only by their depths and my human vision, but also from the organic matter, mangrove tree leaves, decomposed. It laid on top of everything, leaving the seagrass to look like the day after Enola Gay flew over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The more I looked around I saw similar visions of nuclear fall out, yet this was the circle of life. The organic decomposition feeding the sea cucumbers, and tree worms which in turn are eaten by the fish in turn eaten by the Kingfishers. Somehow something so horrific from the surface was transformed through the looking mirror. Perspective. The sea refracted and bent the vision creating a wholly new interpretation or definition.

At that moment, I turned on my back and just floated. Ears in the water, body relaxed the sea took ownership of my soul.