Last Sunday evening Julia and I heard that the massive oil slick from the "Deepwater Horizon" oil rig would be striking Northwest Florida's Santa Rosa Island this week. It's a potentially devastating situation. So I paused and counted the years, and almost found it hard to believe. I first encountered that beautiful, but now seriously threatened Island just over 40 years ago! It has always played a prominent role in my life. My parents took us to the beach there all the time when we were kids. That was back when some of the sand dunes were so high and steep you sometimes couldn't make it to the top because you'd slide back down at some point. From our childhood days on through to the present many amazing good times were had on Santa Rosa Island for those of us lucky enough to live close by, and I was no exception. From various teenage rites of passage on through to introspective adult meditation - it all happened on "the Island". Countless sunsets and sunrises too. Some of the sunrises were romantic, while others resulted from running around the Island all night under the pretense of camping out with some wired friends, all of us incapable of any attempt at sleeping. At the point you begin to wonder why your night vision seems to be improving you realize it's the first defused light sneaking in over the horizon heralding in the coming day. Almost a religious experience! Most recently Julia and I have shared several sunrises there with all the above elements, including our cameras as we desperately tried to capture that pre-sunrise feel. But it really can't be done. You have to experience it. So for several days after the April 20th explosion out on the gulf drilling rig we anxiously awaited on some news while it seemed almost everybody else was ignoring it. But it was clear a major ecological disaster was in store. It would take dozens of pages to even brush on the potential damage to the environment. In addition to the gooey blackening of the whitest shoreline in the world, the death to marine wildlife will be beyond calculation. And this being nesting season for both birds and turtles makes it even more of a threat. If the oil makes it into the vast marshes, wetlands, and estuaries so prevalent along the Gulf Coast, the destruction to wildlife could damn near be absolute. What sinks to the sea bottom starts off another poison food-chain reaction. Scientists say bacteria, plankton and other tiny, bottom-feeding creatures will consume the oil, and will then be eaten by small fish, crabs and shrimp. They, in turn, will be eaten by bigger fish, such as red snapper (my personal favorite), and marine mammals like dolphins. The petroleum substances that concentrate in the sea creatures could kill them or render them unsafe for eating. I read this morning that BP is hiring contractors to scoop up the hundreds of dead sea turtles, dolphins, pelicans, terns and fish that are expected because they don't want such pictures getting out to the media. But they will. If any closer I'd be down there every day, as painful as that would be. So, when last Sunday's landfall prediction was for a Tuesday arrival in Florida, I decided to go down. It was almost like saying good-bye to a long time friend. Like Leon Russell's song that kept playing in my mind, "I hope you understand, I just had to go back to the Island". But it turned out that Tuesday's landfall was premature, so instead of environmental destruction I was once again treated to the unique coastal beauty of the whole amazing Gulf Coast ecological system. A few of the pictures I took last Tuesday are on this post. The beach that day was as beautiful as ever, but it was a powerful emotional moment contemplating what it might look like the next time I stood on that beautiful shore. I know that eventually nature often heals itself, such as the recovery at Prince William's Sound in Alaska. And I still support off-shore drilling, although much stronger safeguards obviously must be established. Thanks much, marshall