#naturewriting

Today I received lantana flowers, In the purest form of love. At six and twelve, They know how to express their feelings, They know how to care, They will be great men.

These thoughtfully handpicked flowers, A gesture of genuine and kind love. The yellow for life, The pink for femininity, These are delicate and stunning flowers, As delicate as my heart, As stunning as my soul. They have bloomed this spring.

In case you didn’t know, Lantanas grow in the tropics of Africa and America, And in recent years, other parts of the world too. Although they are fragile and pretty, They are medicinal. I feel my stomach upset no more after holding them, I feel my heart is calm.

When the boys gave me these, they didn’t know all this, But they knew love. They knew, like lantanas need sun and moisture, I needed love to bloom. Just as lantanas can resist heat and drought, I have resisted the toughest of this season.

When I entered the Mediterranean Sea

I felt what a believer must feel

before the Western Wall

The ocean asked me

to shed my layers,

to let it cleanse my soul,

its waves teaching my body to flow

And when I returned

to the sandy beach,

I knew,

this was a new me.

Source: Unknown

“We need the tonic of wildness...At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.”

𝑮𝒐 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕... 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔? 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 🌬🌫🌱

𝑮𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒐 𝑨𝒓𝒅𝒂'𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚

𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔, 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆. 𝑭𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒃 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔. 𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓.

𝑹𝒖𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒕, 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒖𝒅. 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆'𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒌𝒔, 𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒔. 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍 𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒆.

𝑷𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉.

What Would Rachel Do?

Get off Social Media

As famous as she was from winning the National Book Award for The Sea Around Us, Rachel was averse to public speaking and aggrandizement, much to the chagrin of her agent. When The Edge of the Sea hit the New York Times Bestseller list in the fall of 1955, she had numerous requests to speak at public events and declined most of them. 

She was a solid "NO" to the numerous requests from magazines to run a profile on her as well. Rachel didn't see her author life as a brand and didn't seek the attention. I'm not sure if she was afraid of the scrutiny she would receive by allowing the press into her personal life, or her natural shyness, but it doesn't mean she wasn't focused on the success of her work.

Indeed, The Edge of the Sea and another book about life at the sea, albeit, a non-scientific and philosophical take, Anne Lindbergh's Gift from the Sea exchanged places on the top ten list throughout 1955-56 on various news outlets. Rachel takes note of it in letters to her friend, Dorothy. 

"...I truly-even now-don't expect The Edge (The Edge of the Sea) ever to reach #1 spot, but I'd be happy that it is Mrs. Lindbergh's book and not something sensational or trashy."

Trashy included the book about a woman who under hypnosis discovers she'd lived another life decades earlier. After years of being at the top ten, Rachel doesn't hold back on her disdain for losing rank to Bridey Murphy (1956) which hit #1 on Chicago Tribune in 1956. "I think this silly Bridey Murphy thing is going to scoot right up and crowd Mrs. Lindbergh...The Edge by the way is No. 6- up one." And then weeks later,  "That wretched Bridey Murphy thing has displaced Mrs. Lindbergh! That is really a blow. "

Rachel didn't have to deal with today's social media spotlight that casts rays well beyond the reach of newspapers or magazines of her time. And she wasn't in a position to write anything with a pseudonym like Elena Ferrante, you don't get the chance to write a biography of the sea, and a scathing indictment against the chemical industry anonymously. Yet, her detachment from public scrutiny allowed her to write one of her most challenging work of all--Silent Spring (1962).  And then all hell broke loose. 

With that in mind, I've gotten to 7k words in this novel set in Maine that has Rachel as a 'macguffin' in the story. And I'm thinking with the holidays coming, this might be time to shut down my own social media, and detach myself from that public for a few weeks so I can keep writing. 

Happy Holidays everyone! See you in the New Year. 

Sources: William Souder. On a Farther Shore. The Life and Legacy of Rachel Carson. 2012. 

Oh, my dear sweet Hyacinth!

How beautiful you bloom,

and how graceful you die.

When the earth is quiet and still,

And the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat,

It is peaceful.

It feels as if only you exist.

As if only your thoughts matter.

As if everything is untouched waiting for you to discover it.

You have a place in the world.

To find yourself.

To find peace.

To find freedom.

All within your own mind.

When the chaos of the world returns it becomes harder to breath.

But with every inhale that tranquility comes back,

And with every exhale freedom engulfs you.