Tag: resilience

Iquique by Sea VI

Experience the breathtaking approach to Iquique, Chile, capturing the vibrant life of fishermen, the majestic beauty of Punta Negra, and the resilient spirit of this coastal community. Join us on a journey from sea to shore.

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Forty-one minutes have passed, and we are now close to the anchorage site. The pilot boat, with its vibrant orange hull, cuts a striking figure against the serene blue gray of the sea. This small but vital vessel plays an essential role in the complex choreography of maritime navigation, guiding larger ships safely through treacherous waters.

Click any photograph for a larger view and use Ctrl-x to zoom in closer.

Beyond the pilot boat, shorebirds fly in rhythmic formation, a sight both familiar and comforting. Using the zoom (300mm) of my variable zoom lens, I identify these birds as pelicans, their elegant, synchronized flight a mesmerizing display against the vast expanse of water.

The pilot boat comes to a stop between us and anchored fishing boats, a cluster of vessels that seem to float effortlessly on the waves. Each boat, with its unique character and history, tells a story of countless journeys and the lives of those who depend on the sea for their livelihood. The fishermen, with their weathered faces and hands skilled in the art of the catch, embody a resilience born from years of facing the sea’s many moods. These boats are tools of the trade, lifelines for the families and communities they support, each one a testament to the enduring human spirit.

The post header photograph captures Punta Negra, the northern boundary of the harbor. The rugged, imposing cliffs of Punta Negra rise sharply from the water, their stark beauty accentuated by a white layer of diatomaceous earth running along the coast. This geological feature, first encountered at our last port in Mollendo, Peru, adds a unique texture to the landscape, a silent testament to the natural history of the region. The white layer, created by the accumulation of microscopic algae over millennia, stands out vividly against the darker rock, a reminder of the Earth’s ancient past.

Look closely, can you make out the distinctive shape of a Monkey Puzzle tree along the shoreline road? This ancient tree, with its unique and resilient form, mirrors the endurance of those who live and work in this challenging environment. The Monkey Puzzle tree, native to Chile, is known for its hardiness and longevity, thriving in conditions where few other trees can survive. It stands as a metaphor for the people of this region, who have adapted to and thrived in one of the world’s most inhospitable landscapes.

As I zoom in further, using the full 300mm power of my lens on a stable tripod, I capture close views of the fishing boats. Each detail comes into sharp focus – the rusted hulls, the nets hanging in preparation, the names of the boats proudly painted on their sides. These vessels, with their worn and weathered appearances, have a beauty all their own. They are symbols of perseverance, of the daily struggle and triumphs of those who brave the sea to make a living. The fishing boats, though seemingly small in the vast ocean, are powerful symbols of human resilience and adaptability.

The sea, a constant presence in the lives of these people, shapes their days and their destinies. The fishermen head out each morning, guided by the tides and the weather, their knowledge of the sea passed down through generations. Each catch brings hope and sustenance, a reward for their hard work and skill. Yet, the sea is also unpredictable, capable of turning fierce and unforgiving in an instant. This duality – the sea as both provider and adversary – is a fundamental part of life here, woven into the fabric of daily existence.

Our ship’s anchor has dropped, signaling that we are ready to board the tender for the trip from anchorage to port. This marks the start of our day’s activities, a journey that will take us from the vast, open sea to the vibrant life of Iquique. As we prepare to disembark, I reflect on the interconnectedness of these moments – the precision of the pilot boat, the flight of the pelicans, the stories of the fishermen, and the enduring landscape. Each element weaves together to create a tapestry of life on the sea, a testament to the resilience and beauty of this remarkable region.

The tender ride offers a closer look at the fishing boats and the shore. I notice the intricate details of the boats – the colorful paint, the weather-beaten wood, the names that reflect the hopes and dreams of their owners. Each boat is a microcosm of life, carrying the weight of daily struggles and the promise of future catches. The fishermen, now preparing their gear for the day’s work, move with practiced ease, their actions a ballet of efficiency honed by years of experience.

As we approach the port, the city of Iquique comes into view, a bustling hub of activity nestled between the sea and the mountains. The contrast between the natural beauty of the landscape and the vibrant energy of the city is striking. Here, in this meeting place of land and sea, past and present, we see the resilience of the human spirit, the ability to adapt and thrive in even the most challenging conditions.

This journey, from the open sea to the heart of Iquique, is more than just a physical passage. It is a journey through time and history, a glimpse into the lives of those who call this place home. As we step onto the shore, ready to explore the city and its rich heritage, I carry with me the stories of the sea, the echoes of the past, and the promise of new discoveries.

Click me for the first post of this series.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

A Serendipitous Meeting: The Hermit Crab and the Moon Snail

Washed up together on a sunlit shore, a hermit crab and a Moon Snail tell an extraordinary tale of survival and resilience in the vast ocean. Discover how these unlikely companions reveal the intricate dance of life beneath the waves and the profound connections that bind marine ecosystems. Dive into their captivating story and uncover the secrets of their intertwined destinies.

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The high tide left behind a myriad of treasures scattered along the shore. Among the shells and seaweed, two unlikely companions lay side by side—a Moon Snail and a hermit crab. This serendipitous meeting speaks volumes about the intricate dance of life in the ocean’s depths.

Life Beneath the Waves

Hermit crabs are fascinating creatures, exhibiting behaviors and adaptations that ensure their survival in the ever-changing marine environment. These crabs are not born with shells. Instead, they scavenge for empty shells discarded by snails, meticulously choosing the perfect fit. The shells provide essential protection against predators and environmental hazards.

In their early life stages, hermit crabs undergo a series of molts, shedding their exoskeletons to grow. Each molt presents a critical opportunity to upgrade their shell, moving to a larger one as they increase in size. This constant need for new housing drives a competitive dynamic among hermit crabs, with individuals often engaging in “shell exchanges” where one crab may forcibly evict another from its shell.

The Hermit and the Moon Snail

The Moon Snail, known scientifically as Neverita duplicata, is a predatory mollusk famous for its distinctive, moon-shaped shell. These snails are both feared and admired in the marine community for their voracious appetite and remarkable hunting tactics. They drill into the shells of their prey, typically other mollusks, using a specialized appendage called a radula, combined with acidic secretions to bore through the hard exterior. Click me for another post with more information about the Moon Snail.

The juxtaposition of the Moon Snail and the hermit crab washed up together is a tableau that invites deeper contemplation. How did these two distinct beings come to share the same stretch of sand?

A Dance of Survival

It’s likely that the hermit crab, in its search for a suitable home, found itself in the proximity of the Moon Snail. The Moon Snail, a relentless hunter, could have been following its own trail of prey when the tide caught them both off guard. The ocean’s currents, indifferent to their individual struggles, deposited them together on the beach, a fleeting moment of stillness in their otherwise tumultuous lives.

This meeting is a stark reminder of the interconnectedness of marine life. The hermit crab relies on the discarded shells of snails for survival, while the Moon Snail’s role as a predator keeps the balance in check, ensuring that no single species dominates the ecosystem.

Reflections on Resilience

The image of the hermit crab within its borrowed shell speaks to the resilience and adaptability inherent in nature. These crabs are perpetual nomads, continually seeking, adapting, and thriving in environments that can be both generous and harsh. Their survival hinges on their ability to repurpose and reuse, a lesson in resourcefulness that resonates beyond the tidepools.

The Moon Snail, with its powerful drilling capabilities, exemplifies the raw force of nature. Its presence is a reminder of the predatory relationships that underpin marine ecosystems, driving evolution and diversity through a relentless cycle of life and death.

The Final Tide

As we ponder the scene before us, it’s worth considering the broader implications of these two creatures’ lives. The ocean, vast and unfathomable, is a realm where survival is an art form, honed by millennia of adaptation. The hermit crab and the Moon Snail, though vastly different in form and function, share a common thread—their existence is a testament to the delicate balance of nature.

The hermit crab’s journey, from shell to shell, mirrors our own quests for security and stability. The Moon Snail’s predatory prowess underscores the inevitable challenges we face. Together, they remind us that life, in all its forms, is a continuous interplay of seeking and surviving, of finding and losing, of moments of stillness and sudden change.

In the end, the hermit crab and the Moon Snail, brought together by the whims of the tide, offer a glimpse into the profound and often unseen connections that weave the tapestry of life beneath the waves. Their story is a poignant reflection on resilience, adaptability, and the ever-present dance of survival that defines the natural world.

A top view of the shell occupied by a Hermit Crab found on Cocoa Beach, Brevard County, Florida. The Space Coast.

An Uncertain Identification

The identification of our hermit crab companion is made challenging by the absence of one of its claws, a vital characteristic for precise classification. This missing claw hints at the hardships faced by hermit crabs in their dynamic and sometimes perilous environments. Whether lost in a struggle with a predator or another hermit crab, this detail serves as a reminder of the tenacity and resilience required for survival in the marine world. While the exact species remains a mystery, the broader story of the hermit crab’s life and survival remains clear and compelling.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

A Windy Winter’s Beach Morning

These videos capture a windy morning at Cocoa Beach, showcasing the American flag’s resilience and the beauty of nature.

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The sun has barely risen over the horizon, casting a golden hue on the edges of the swaying palm trees. I’ve found my favorite spot on Cocoa Beach, where the sand meets the sea oats, and the Atlantic waves crash endlessly. It’s a windy winter’s morning, with the gusts howling, pulling at my shirt, tugging at the American flag standing tall amidst the dunes.

The early light of dawn illuminates clouds with a pink hue on a windy winter’s morning. Cocoa Beach, Brevard County, Florida. The Space Coast.

The flag is massive, its stars and stripes fluttering with conviction against the backdrop of an endless blue sky. Its red, white, and blue are a reminder of the freedom it represents. A symbol of history woven into every thread. In the wind, its fabric dances gracefully, in sync with the whispering leaves and the sea’s rhythm.

This particular flag has been around for years, steadfast on this patch of the Florida coast. The pole, firm and weathered, stands as a sentinel. It’s not just a symbol of patriotism but a beacon for those who wander these shores, a guiding point that has witnessed countless sunrises and sunsets, serving as a reminder of the ideals this country strives for.

Near the end of my video a squad of pelicans glides through, slicing the sky in a perfect formation. They using the wind to their advantage, and their synchronized flight is mesmerizing. Their journey is a testament to the beauty of nature’s choreography, moving with grace and purpose, guided by the same winds that ripple through the flag and carry them along the coast.

The wind is fierce today, blowing sand like fine snow across the beach. It stings my face as I watch the waves roar, driven by the same winds that make the flag soar. These are the south winds, warm and constant, flowing over the Atlantic. They pick up speed across the open waters before reaching the coast, shaping the dunes, bending the palm fronds, and reminding me of the unyielding force of nature.

The south wind is not just a whim of nature; it’s shaped by the currents that flow from the equator, by the rotation of the Earth, and by the heated lands further south. It’s nature’s breath, shifting sands and altering landscapes. This breeze carries with it a hint of salt, a whisper of the tropical climates from which it comes, and a false promise of more warmth on this winter morning.

There’s a certain serenity in being here, watching the elements play. The sea is restless, much like my thoughts. I can’t help but contemplate the forces that have shaped this land, from the explorers who first set foot here to the astronauts who launched themselves to the moon from just a few miles away. This place is steeped in history, and the flag embodies that.

As I look towards the flag again, its fabric shimmering under the sun’s rays, I think about all that it has seen. The gentle lapping of the waves reminds me of the constant change that’s part of life. The flag, though, is a steadfast sentinel, standing tall through it all, enduring the same winds and elements that buffeted it years ago. It speaks of resilience and hope, of standing tall no matter what comes your way.

I pull out my camera, capturing the flag as it flutters in the wind, its stripes rippling like waves on the sea. In a moment, I take a video, recording not just the flag but the beach around it, the sand swirling around my feet, creating transient patterns that the wind will soon erase. The video captures the essence of this place, where the wind and waves weave their own stories.

This morning, like so many before, the wind brings with it a sense of purpose. It whispers tales of the past and hints at the future, pushing me to continue exploring, to keep seeking, and to always remember what this place represents. The American flag, in its majestic flight, is more than fabric; it’s a reminder of the journey and the ideals that guide us, just like this wind pushing along the coast, unrelenting and full of promise.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Reeds of Resilience: A Tale of Growth and Survival

Discover the hidden world of Phragmites australis, the common reed: a story of resilience, beauty, and ecological significance, told through the eyes of the wetlands.

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On the southern shore of Cayuga Lake, where waters mirror the ever-changing sky, I found this common reed, Phragmites australis, a plant of unassuming grace yet profound influence. This tale unfolds at the broad boarders of earth and water, a refuge and kingdom to countless beings.

Phragmites australis, a reed both simple and complex, begins its journey as a whisper in the mud. From the soft, fertile earth, it bursts forth into the world, a slender shoot reaching for the heavens. Its growth is steady and assured, fueled by the sun’s embrace and the water’s caress. In time, it stands tall, a sentinel in a sea of green, its feathery plumes, called panicles, wafted by the breeze.

This reed, you see, is a cornerstone of its ecosystem, a master architect, shaping its environment, crafting homes and havens for creatures great and small, in keeping with the genus name “Phragmites.” The Greek word “phragma” translates to “fence” or “hedge”, derived from the verb “phrassein”, meaning “to enclose.” Within that realm tiny creatures find refuge. From dragonflies and damselflies to grasshoppers and beetles are found by careful, patient observers. Insects play essential roles in pollination and nutrient cycling. Birds use the dense vegetation for shelter and foraging, you might find red-winged blackbirds, marsh wrens, and rails among the stems. Frogs, toads, and salamanders find refuge in reedy marshes. They lay their eggs in the waterlogged areas, and their tadpoles thrive amidst the reed stems. Phragmites australis is a giver of life, a source of sustenance and protection for many.

Yet, the tale of Phragmites is also one of struggle and resilience. In lands far from its native soil, it is often seen as an invader, a usurper of territories, spreading with a zeal that can overwhelm native flora and alter habitats. Its spread, unchecked, can lead to monocultures, diminishing biodiversity. But in its essence, Phragmites does not seek conquest but survival, thriving in spaces both gentle and harsh, adapting with an elegance that commands admiration.

As seasons turn, the reed undergoes a transformation, its green turning to gold, then to the brown of the earth from which it sprang. But even in decay, it nurtures life, its fallen stalks a shelter for the small and the silent, its seeds a promise of renewal. And when spring whispers anew, Phragmites rises once more, a cycle unbroken, a circle complete.

In the tale of Phragmites australis, we find a narrative of life itself—growth and decay, beauty and conflict, resilience and adaptation. This common reed, standing tall among the waters of the world, is a testament to the enduring power of nature, a reminder of the intricate tapestries of life that flourish in the quiet corners of our planet.

Click Me for another posting on the Common Reed.

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

A Raft of Coots on Merritt Island

Discover the elegance of the American Coot through our journey at Merritt Island, where these unsung avians dance across the water, crafting nature’s own symphony of survival and grace.

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First Glimpse

There we were, Pam and I, standing before the serene waters of the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, when a cluster of American Coots (Fulica americana) caught our eyes. Locally known as mud hens, marsh hens, or pond ducks, these coots were anything but mundane. Their dark plumage blended with the ripples, while their ivory bills gleamed like beacons, leading our gaze across the liquid expanse.

 

 

The Coot’s Constellation

As a throng, they moved with purposeful grace, a constellation of birds, each a star in their own right. With lobed toes spread like aquatic fans, they paddled through the water, their movements an embodiment of nature’s ingenuity. These “poule d’eau,” as the French settlers once called them, displayed a mastery over their domain, both in water and on land.

Social Weave

 

A Raft of American Coots

The coots assembled not as a random flock but as a deliberate collective, a raft in both name and function. They maneuvered with a collective intelligence, each bird’s action rippling through the group, exemplifying the coots’ penchant for community. Their group dynamics, a blend of cooperation and competition, painted a picture of the delicate balance within ecosystems.

An Ecological Perspective

In the tapestry of the refuge’s ecology, the American Coot stitched its niche with precision. Whether known as “baldpate” or “crow duck,” these birds were critical to the habitat they frequented, acting as both consumers and contributors. They pruned the vegetation, controlling its growth, and served as prey, connecting the food web in a cycle that spanned generations.


The Taxonomic Twist: Coots vs. Ducks

As the coots continued their ballet on the water, I turned to Pam, ready to demystify the common misconception that coots and ducks are close relatives. “Though they share the wetland stage,” I began, “these two are cast in different roles by nature’s hand.”

Orders Apart

Coots are members of the order Gruiformes, which includes rails and cranes, characterized by their elongated bodies and short wings. Ducks, on the other hand, belong to the order Anseriformes, which also encompasses swans and geese, known for their broad, flat bills and webbed feet.

Distinct Lineages

This taxonomic separation marks a deep evolutionary divide. The Gruiformes, with their lobed toes and distinctive calls, represent a lineage adapted for a life traversing the marshy edges of the world. Anseriformes, with their specialized bills for filtering and dabbling, reveal a lineage fine-tuned for exploiting the aquatic resources more extensively.

The Cultural Mosaic

Despite their commonality, coots have etched a place in cultural folklore, often overshadowed by more colorful avian neighbors. Yet, their ubiquity across North American wetlands has made them a familiar sight, a symbol of the wild’s persistent pulse. To us, they were the embodiment of the unsung wilderness, a chapter in the storybook of natural history.

Embracing the Ensemble

As the day waned, the water transformed into a canvas of orange and purple hues, with the coots as its subjects. “Behold the marsh’s musicians,” I mused to Pam, “each note they play is a beat in the heart of the wild.” Our encounter with the American Coot—a bird of many names but one singular, remarkable essence—was a harmonious reminder of nature’s interconnected ballet.

 

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

A January Encounter with a Moon Jellyfish

Walk with me through a narrative as translucent as the Moon Jellyfish itself, revealing the hidden connections between us and the vast ocean’s enigmatic creatures.

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Initial Encounter


It was a cool January morning, and the southern winds were brisk as they tousled my sparse hair. I had made my way along Cocoa Beach, a place I often find solace in the rhythmic dance of the waves. Today, however, the ocean had a different story to tell. As I walked along the shore, my gaze fell upon a peculiar sight—a translucent, almost ethereal creature lay motionless on the sand. It was a Moon Jellyfish, or as scientists call it, Aurelia aurita.

 

 

The gelatinous being had been cast out by the unforgiving sea, its pinkish hue a stark contrast against the dull sands. This wasn’t an uncommon sight, as these creatures often end up on beaches due to wind patterns and water currents. But there was something about this particular Moon Jellyfish that captivated me. Perhaps it was the way it shimmered in the morning light, or how it seemed so peaceful, so out of place, yet exactly where it was meant to be.

Ecological Significance


I knew that the Moon Jellyfish played a crucial role in the marine ecosystem. These cnidarians are not just beautiful drifters; they are a vital part of the ocean’s food web. Small fish and other marine organisms often find shelter among the Moon Jellyfish’s tentacles, escaping predators and finding nourishment in the plankton caught by their host. In turn, the Moon Jellyfish themselves are prey to a variety of larger species, including sea turtles and certain birds.

Seeing the jellyfish on the shore, I contemplated the fragility of this balance. A change in wind direction, a shift in temperature, or human interference could easily disrupt this delicate ecological dance. It was a stark reminder of the interconnectedness of life and the responsibility we hold in preserving these intricate relationships.

Biological Wonders


The biology of the Moon Jellyfish is as fascinating as its role in the ecosystem. They are composed mainly of water, with a body that includes a bell-shaped top called the medusa, and short tentacles that hang below. These tentacles contain stinging cells known as cnidocytes, which they use to capture their prey—mainly tiny plankton.

As I observed the jellyfish before me, I couldn’t help but marvel at its simplicity and complexity. The Moon Jellyfish has a basic nervous system and lacks a traditional brain, heart, and blood. Yet, it thrives in the vast and challenging environment of the ocean. Its lifecycle, too, is a wonder, beginning as a polyp anchored to the seafloor, then transforming into the free-floating medusa I saw on the beach.

A Reflection on Nature and Humanity


The Moon Jellyfish’s unexpected presence on Cocoa Beach prompted a deeper reflection on nature’s course and our place within it. This creature, which had drifted with the currents and tides, led me to ponder the currents of our own lives. How often do we find ourselves washed ashore by the winds of change, feeling out of place, yet precisely where we’re meant to be?

In that moment, I understood that we, too, are like the Moon Jellyfish in many ways—adaptable, resilient, and part of a larger whole. We float through life, sometimes at the mercy of forces beyond our control, yet we possess the innate ability to navigate our environment and survive.

As I left the beach that day, the image of the Moon Jellyfish imprinted in my mind, I felt a newfound respect for these delicate yet durable denizens of the deep. The Moon Jellyfish, washed up by a southern wind onto Cocoa Beach, served as a silent teacher, reminding me of the beauty and fragility of life, the importance of our ecosystems, and the subtle threads that connect us all.

 

Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

Lichens: Symbiosis Set on Stone

Discover a timeless world through my lens: delve into Arizona’s Rincon Wilderness, where lichens and hedgehog cacti narrate Earth’s enduring, untold story. Join me.

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Continue reading “Lichens: Symbiosis Set on Stone” →

Life and Death

Among the 7,000 year old remains found in Windover Bog was the skeleton of a boy crippled from spina bifida who had to be carried around and treated for the 16 years of his life.

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I was born into a world that danced around me, a world I could only witness but never fully join. My legs, unlike those of the other children in our tribe, refused to carry me. I spent my days close to our hut, watching the life of our village unfold from my corner, shaded by the leafy arms of the great trees.

My mother was my bridge to the world. She carried me to the edge of the waters, where I would watch my friends play, their laughter a melody I cherished. She showed me the way the water held stories, the way the reeds whispered in the wind. She taught me to weave, my fingers nimble and quick, making up for my still legs.

As I grew, I found my place among my people. I became a keeper of stories, a weaver of tales, just as I wove reeds into baskets. My voice became my movement, my words a dance.

Then, illness found me. It crept into our hut, a shadow that no fire could dispel. My mother’s eyes, always so full of warmth, grew clouded with fear. She fought for me, her hands constantly working – crushing herbs, whispering prayers.

I saw her struggle; saw the toll it took. I wanted to ease her burden, tell her it would be alright, but my voice had begun to fail me. All I could do was squeeze her hand, a silent message of love and gratitude.

As my breaths grew shallower, I watched her. She was my world, her face the last thing I saw as I drifted away, her lullabies carrying me to a place of peace.

I am his mother, heartbroken and weary. My son, my joy, lies motionless, his chest barely rising. I had always carried him, but now, there’s a journey I cannot make with him.

I remember his laughter, bright and clear, despite his bound body. His spirit had wings, even if his legs did not. He was the light of our tribe, a storyteller, a dreamer.

When he leaves me, my heart shatters. The tribe gathers, offering comfort, but the void he leaves is too vast. We prepare him for his final journey, wrapping his body, laying beside him his favorite weaving tools, the small toys he cherished.

We take him to the bog, our sacred place. Gently, we lay him in the water, his final cradle. The waters close over him, holding him in an eternal embrace.

Years pass, but his memory remains, alive in the stories I tell by the fire.

Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved http://www.MichaelStephenWills.com