“Messenger,” (1-5)
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird—
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Mary Oliver (2006)
Looking out from the bow of the boat, the horizon stretches low. Treeline strings along the horizon, where the channels and creeks do not extend. Coming from the sea islands, the salt marsh has a refreshing and minimal appearance. Vibrant green cordgrass, a moody grey sky, mist in the air. Clean and simple lines are made by the distant islands, the water and the sky, as well as the estuary grasses that meander along. White phantom-like egrets rise from the grass. Beautiful white feathered wings unfurling, their flight arching overhead, or gliding above the water. This area is punctuated by the occasional bridge, connecting the developed islands to one another.
Arriving at the St. Phillips, the scenery transforms. Setting forward on mostly undeveloped land, we move from the dock, and into the canopy of the climax maritime forest. Near the water, there are sparse trees that gradually descend into a old complex forest. The plant life here feels loud, leaves of varying sizes and shapes zig-zag across one another. Soft spanish moss lazes down from the trees, bright pink bubblegum lichen speckle the trunks. Vibrant and lively, the contrast from land to barrier island is polarizing.
Wind and water must have formed this land. This is the Coastal Plain of South Carolina, the majority of the land sits at 270 feet above sea level. Also known as the Lowcountry, this unique region was formed from the powerful rise and fall of the sea level, eroding over time. There seems to be an advantage to unique shapes in nature that can work with the wind, rather than be destroyed by it.
Salinity has a huge influence over the plant density and types. This can interfere with a plants ability to uptake nitrogen, and reproduce. So, in the estuary the few plants able to tolerate high salt levels live in or boarder the marsh waters. As we moved inland the biodiversity seemed to increase thanks to the lower salinity, and protection from the extreme conditions that storms can create. Focusing on abiotic forces leaves me with the sense that the elements have set the current stage, which is one of many in a long epic story.
Experiences like this have begun to change how I approach my daily life. Suddenly, almost everywhere I go becomes a place that can be read like the marsh, with the right amount of curiosity. Indicator species can clue us in on the health of areas. Geology of a space hints at unrecognizable landscapes from different times. This inspires my curiosity, not just about science, but art as well. Many mediums and individuals have tried to express the awe that being a part of the natural world makes us feel.
“Swan”
Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air –
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music– like the rain pelting the trees– like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds –
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?
Mary Oliver 2010
Post by Emily Brazier (Naturalist Guide)