The Slackline

Something that continually tested our patience and skill this semester was the infamous slack line. In this love hate relationship, we got to experience the progress of each other as the weeks went by. For all the failed attempts and face plants onto the grass, a successful walk across the line, or even a good solid 3 steps made up for it. Class breaks served as an ideal time to hit up the line, taking a few tries while the tree still provides the shade needed for concentration. There’s always a higher level of patience to be achieved. 

By Nick Voss

Marine Ecology

“Like love, the coral reef is a great mystery that sweeps over us, bypassing our rational minds entirely and eliciting feelings we didn’t know were in us”—The Enchanted Braid, Osha Gray Davidson.

 

It is no wonder many of us wax poetic when describing the rain forests of the sea.  This semester we returned to Calabash Caye for marine ecology.  Here are a few poems to give you a glimpse, a taste, of our experience there…

 

Breathing.

I hear breathing.

My breathing. Steady and deep. In and out.

Waves.

I hear them too.

But they are gentle background noise of that other world above this 

aquatic jungle.

And popping.

I hear a clutter of cracking and popping as fishes and other secret 

organisms bustle about their business.

Freely and seemingly effortlessly going about their lives for survival 

on the reef.

 

Taste.

I taste salt, and honestly that is all I taste.

 

Warm salt water. (later to be crust and dust in my hair and salt 

crystals on my skin)

This is what I feel.

It envelopes me.

I dive and am totally taken in by this dimension. Their Dimension.

 

Colors.

I see colors.

All colors:

Black, white, brown, tan, yellow, neon green, grey, dark blue, deep 

red, shimmering emerald green, orange, royal purple, line, sand, ash, 

and on and on.

Shapes.

I see shapes, and patterns too.

Round, square, tall, short, cylindrical, stripes, checkers, dots, 

scales, fins, eyes, mesh-like fans, cones, half circles, shapes and 

patterns that don’t even have names!

I am encompassed by it all.

My senses are saturated.

This place is teaming.

This place is alive.

I am alive.

  I breathe.

                        --Jessie Borden

Beneath the Waters:

 

The ocean swells pulse through my body

Even after I leave the waves

The salt lightly peppers my skin

The sights and colors brighten my eyes

And the absence of sounds makes it feel

Like I am floating in a dream world.

There is so much life out in the open

And much, much more life beyond

What our eyes can see

At the surface level, which is all I can pierce

For the abilities of humans have not yet unlocked

The web of intricacies only God could knit together

I am privileged, one of only some

That are allowed to peek into a time machine

That shows the alternating scars and healings

The earth has inflicted on this strong, yet vulnerable

Underworld.

                  --Christine Prins

 

 

I have often looked out across the sea -

                played in its waves,

                tasted its salt in my nostrils.

It was always there, something to entertain

 on warm summer days.

Never did I wonder, nor did I suspect,

What was present beneath its waves.

 

Its coral reef is full of beauty

It is an undulating labyrinth,

dappled by the diffuse sunlight,

                a shimmering and delicate landscape.

It is an intriguing mystery.

 

As its cool water envelops me,

I see only the life beneath me,

hear only my own breath and an alien crackling.

Below me:

                elkhorn, staghorn,

                blue tang, blue head,

                squirrel fish, cow fish,

                damsel fish, angel fish.

The complexities of their lives are beyond imagining.

 

But I enjoy observing,

                      wondering,

                     invading

                                           for a short time.

                                                      --Autumn Brown

 

 

God and Nature II

“So now what?”  This is the question we asked ourselves in God and Nature II.  It is relatively easy to believe that Christians should take care of creation but how we should go about doing that is much trickier.  Should we look primarily to market-based solutions to deal with the ecological mess we’ve gotten ourselves into?  Or,  should we focus on being agents for change at the grassroots level?  Is some kind of combination of both desirable?  These are questions we wrestled with throughout the week. 

 

         Our discussions this week took place in the wake of our homestay with Mennonite friends in Barton Creek.   We have a lot to learn from them, if we have the ears to hear and the eyes to see.   For me (Courtnay), the “take-away” message from that experience is this: what the groaning earth needs is people who will live differently.  We can’t trust in technology to save us; technology carries with it many unintended consequences.  Nor can we trust in the market that turns greed into a virtue to save us.  What the world needs is people who are peculiar, people who catch a glimpse of the Kingdom of God in our midst and align their lives with that reality.  The Mennonites in Barton Creek are just such a people.  They help each other grow their own food, make their own lumber, build their own houses, sew their own clothes, and travel by horse and buggy. They are patient. They are a community in the truest sense of the world.   Are they perfect?  No.  Should we all become Old Order Mennonites? No.  But…don’t our single-family homes, with a two-car garage, and a TV in each bedroom seem hollow in comparison?  Are we not dying in North America from loneliness and isolation due to a lack of community? As Shane Claiborne reminds us, the question we should be asking is not “is there life after death”, but rather, “is there life before death”. 

Forest Ecology

The Cockscomb Basin Wildlife Sanctuary offered all of its many gifts and blessings to us during our week of Forest Ecology.  Professor Vern Peters made the trip down from Canada to teach us about seed dispersal, light competition, disturbances, and the impact that birds have on the composition of the forest.  

Our days were filled with early morning bird walks, morning lectures, field lectures, tubing,  night hikes, the monitoring of leaf cutter ants, watching Nick perform 10 acrobatic stunts, run-ins with bats, delicious meals, and Motmot sounding hammers.  

On the drive down to Cockscomb a special stop was made to investigate a rather large, dead snake that had been spotted on the side of the road.  Looking at the dead boa was not enough for some in the group and a knife was quickly retrieved to examine the contents of the snake's belly.  Autumn and Kandice are visibly disturbed.  

It is hard not to enjoy a class where owl butterflies, white-necked jacobins, sprawling ceibas, and picturesque waterfalls are all active and encouraged members of your class.  The students came away with, other than a load of bug bites, a deeper understanding of tropical forests and the many processes involved to maintain and preserve their health.  

The Birds of Belize

 "I write a poem by dint of mighty cerebration, the yellow-leg walks a better one just by lifting his foot."

Aldo Leopold

Belize plays stage to so many poems and songs all written and sung with an enviable ease.  It seems that each tree and bird, hill and cloud are often lifting their subtle voices in praise of the Creator.  We are thankful and made humble by these secret and sacred exchanges between Created and Creator.  

This tricolored heron took an angler's break before returning to its daily task of fish finding.  

The anhinga, the cormorant's elegant older sister, sits with feathers mottled white and ash to dry its wings in an afternoon's sun.

A boat-billed heron looks on after being startled awake from its daytime roost.  These herons find the fishing easier at night when fish are sleeping and stationary.  

These jabiru storks are tending to their nest in hopes of fledging a young stork that will one day stand at a height of 55 1/2 inches and soar with wings stretched out that reach 141 inches.

The tongues of these pale-billed woodpeckers can stretch out 5 and 6 inches to retrieve ants, termites and other boring insects.  

Its diet of apple snails provided the inspiration for the naming of this snail kite.  The river was riddled with these beauties perching or soaring low over the water.  

Guess-Who's-Eye-It-Is

See if you can guess who's who! Good luck, it's harder than you think!

They Say It's Your Birthday

Birthdays are a big deal here at CCSP.  Not just a big deal but a big celebration, a big cake, big hugs, big plans, and big fun.  A few weeks ago we were lucky to be able to celebrate four birthdays in one week.  So of course that meant lots of parties.  

For Stephen's big day he got to lead the group on an expedition to "Mount Friesen" while overcoming obstacles such as the "Prickly Tickly Logs of Pain" and the lava pit.  Needless to say, Stephen's experience on the trail and enthusiasm for anything out-of-doors met with success and the group enjoyed the treats that awaited them on top of "Mount Friesen". 

Liz had to share her birthday with an all-day Environmental History field-trip but nevertheless her birth was acknowledged every hour on the hour starting from 5:00 AM.  For each hour, a different person took a turn giving her a gift and leading the group in singing "Happy Birthday". Later on we made a "bathroom stop" at Amigos Restaurant where in addition to eating a nice birthday meal Liz got to see some home movies and blow out some candles.

Jesse was next with his 21st birthday but instead of waking up with a hangover he woke up with everyone jumping on his bed and giving him cards and an earful of singing.  And all day long he got lots of hugs, pats on the back, and other sorts of affection because we all know that's what he loves.  

The next day was Pete's birthday.  Miss Martha and Miss Shelly (our lovely cooks) showered him with specially designed meals, juicy pineapple, and confetti that fell on him as he opened the kitchen door.  Later that night we had a birthday bash for Pete and Jesse.  We decorated Jesse's dreds, wrote poems for Pete, and all played a game of "guess-who's-eye-it-is".  Oh what a week.