A mile high in the sky

Leaving the depths of Florida's springs many miles to the east and over a mile below, mid-March's adventure brought me significantly up in altitude from the low-lying Floridan peninsula. The journey began with a sleepy 6 am takeoff, although I was happily awakened immediately upon seeing that my first mode of transportation was a hot pink propellor plane. We noisily buzzed just above the treetops, headed briefly south to Tampa on Leg 1 of 3 of a day-long journey from Gainesville to Albuquerque, New Mexico to watch my sister run in the NCAA D1 Indoor Track and Field Nationals (and explore some state parks/hot springs!). With my notebook and iPhone camera for some quick snapshots out the window, I documented the trip west…

Florida Gulf coast wetlands and winding rivers.

Swirls of sediments in the Gulf.

Sadly, the pretty pink propellor plane was only nice to look at - riding on it was another (quite bumpy) story, but nonetheless part of the adventure. Not too far below, the land was characterized by relatively nondescript topography, namely miles of empty but fully- lit parking lots and deserted roads. The glowing lights of sleepy streets illuminated the neighborhoods while others dotted the highways, ready for the onset of morning commuter craziness. When we flew somewhere near Orlando, one development was even shaped like a Mickey Mouse head - perhaps it was my sleepy morning imagination, but it was fashioned in the exact shape of the familiar mouse's perfectly round head with 2 symmetrical black ears. The beaches, far in the distance and out of focus through the blurry, small windows, were lined with twinkling lights as far as my eyes could strain to see in the darkness.




Leg 2 of 3 (Tampa to Dallas) - Gulf coast wetlands transitioned briefly to a muddy ocean, with massive deltas and swirls of what appeared to be artistically crafted sediments, spat out by rivers as they meet the sea. Wetlands in the panhandle transitioned to Alabama and Mississippi, then Louisiana farmland and dramatically winding rivers. Countless oxbows cause several river miles to be crammed into very short straight-line distances as they meander towards the gulf. Finally a brown wandering mass of water appeared, dwarfing all other rivers and almost blending in with the surrounding land: it had to be the great Mississippi River. Barges looked like ants below and appeared to be making no headway as they trudged through the muddy waters.

Texas seemed to be mostly farmlands and rivers as well, but only for a limited time. As we moved closer to the city, incomprehensible numbers of houses expanded in fractal-like patterns covering every inch of visible terrain. Everything seemed to be paved over, brown, or industrial, besides of course the plentiful sky-blue swimming pools dotting the back yards of far too many homes.

Fractal landscape of endless homes in Texas.

Leg 3 of 3 (Dallas to Albuquerque) - But not long after takeoff from Dallas, everything suddenly disappeared. Dendritic rivers wove through bright red clay and a landscape as flat as Florida, while reddish agricultural fields covered land in the distance like a hand-woven quilt.

Agricultural fields reminiscent of a hand-stitched quilt.

Soon this pattern took over the entire landscape - pivot irrigation turned the expansive fields into a giant game of Connect 4. Some plots even resembled peace signs...

A giant game of Connect 4 and some peace signs interspersed throughout.

I was definitely envisioning a more dramatic flight over Grand Canyon-esque features… apparently not this far south in the Great Plains. But just as I was beginning to think I would see no mountains and the pilot announced that we had only 20 more minutes until landing, the flat topography of the midwest gave way to marvelous mountains piled high in the sky. White-topped larger-than-Mt. Washington-sized giants appeared far to the north, deeply contrasting the brown, flat terrain below. Peering as far forward as I could manage through the little porthole window, I saw the dark outlines of some of the biggest mountains I've ever seen.

Dark outlines of massive mountains appearing amidst an arid southwestern landscape.

A closeup view of the distant mountains in the top photo.

This whole trip gave me a new appreciation for the diversity of landscapes and ecosystems represented in the small slice of the US visible from my airplane window. Even from one minute to the next, the landscape would drastically change, giving way to new and interesting features below. With the blink of an eye, rivers, patterned arid landscapes, and agricultural fields, cities and mountains came and went with the miles. People always say that they want to go travel abroad (and I am definitely one of them!), but I have a newfound desire to explore the state parks and surprising / off-the-beaten-path landscapes of the vast majority of the US that I have not yet seen. While borders are arbitrary lines we use to divide states and countries, it quickly became clear that New Mexico and this part of the Southwest was very different from Florida or the Northeast, feeling much like a foreign country while still being within the US - it is a place that is definitely fit for adventures… time for some exploring!!

Transition from desert to mountain range.

I was fascinated by these water-filled depressions visible in Eastern New Mexico/Western Texas on the flight home. After consulting with Dr. Brenner and doing a bit of reading, we're pretty sure they are "playa" lakes - ephemeral water-filled basins of varying size that provide some of the only surface water/wetlands in the High Plains region. These particular lakes seem to have a bit more relief than those in some other photos, but most other examples shown are in more of an agricultural setting (you can actually see a few in one of my agricultural photos above as well). Playa lakes are similar to Florida's springs in many ways: they are most likely connected to the Ogallala Aquifer (they are the only known source of recharge to the Ogallala under certain conditions - see link above to the Texas Wildlife Department page), and they are being polluted and altered due to farming, large animal operations, and the building of roads (some of the same issues we have with springs and water in Florida). They serve as important habitats for migrating birds and are unique wetland habitats, allowing a wide array of endemic species and amphibians to survive in an otherwise arid landscape. For more information on playa lakes, see the EPA website.

Dr. Seuss-esque landscapes, the Rio "not so Grande," prickly pear cactus-filled hikes, hot springs adventures (and more!) up next - stay tuned!

Mermaids & World Water Day

"Imagine you lived in water like a mermaid, how would you protect it and keep it healthy? Would you treat the environment differently than you do now?" ~Waterlust

 World Water Day was this past Saturday (March 22) and my awesome friends/fellow Brown alum at Waterlust posted this thought-provoking question along with the following short video teaser from a Florida springs shoot we did a few weeks ago. They are currently working their magic to produce the full-length version, coming soon!
 We are all inextricably tied to water, in many ways to the same extent as the mythical mermaids, and we must remember how each action that we take (or do not take) has an impact on our fragile and threatened water resources. Stay tuned for more on this topic, but for now, here's me as a mermaid and some water-wise thoughts to start your week!

Post by Waterlust.

Illusions

In a world where up is down and down is up, can you look to the sky?

In Florida's springs, magical reflections play tricks on your mind, engulfing you in a swaying green paradise where fish and turtles can fly. Hovering weightlessly, you are suspended in a crystal clear heaven with endless visibility… while you're submerged, the rest of the world is on hold.

At the interface of air and water, there are incredible distortions and mind-bending special effects. When I first started taking pictures in the springs, my favorite shot was the ½ and ½ - it’s fun to play with the interface of water and air and observe the transition between what seem to be two strikingly different worlds.

Over the past year, I developed a new favorite shot: from just below the surface, there appears to be a world with endless water – from just the right angle and perspective, the underwater world takes over the sky. It’s the view from the eyes of the mermaids. With over 20 trips to Blue Spring over the past few months, I have experimented in all sorts of light, weather, times of day, and different types of vegetation. I have been so focused on my camera, body position in the water, and doing snail research that only very recently did I draw what now seems to be an obvious parallel between these photographs and the real world.

These photos represent what is all too often our relationship with water – we see a seeming infinity, what Cynthia Barnett terms an “illusion of water abundance.”¹ This deceptive mirage of endless water floods our brains even as groundwater is depleted, wells are sucked dry, and ecosystems are drastically altered. We want to believe that water is an endless resource, stretching far into the future and taking over the sky, but in reality, this is sadly not the case.

The time is far past due for us to reflect on what water means to us, how we can both conserve it and develop a new and sustainable relationship with it, and how we’re going to carry on in a water-stressed world. I invite you to begin your reflections here:

The complete “Illusions” album is on Facebook if you’d like to check it out. This collection of illusions photos is an ongoing project, so I will be adding to it frequently as I build my portfolio and explore new springs. Please feel free to share this post or the “Illusions” album to help raise awareness about these beautiful but fragile and endangered ecosystems. You can also check out springseternalproject.org to learn more about Florida's springs and the factors that are contributing to the water quality and quantity problems that are currently plaguing the springs.

¹ Cynthia Barnett talks about this illusion in her Op-Ed “America’sWater Mirage,” published in the LA Times on Nov 11, 2012: http://articles.latimes.com/2012/nov/11/opinion/la-oe-barnett-water-colorado-river-scarcity-20121111. “The Illusion of Water Abundance” is also the title of the opening chapter of her wonderful book Blue Revolution.

Perspectives

In the winter, Florida has hot springs. Not the kind you find at Yellowstone or those in Iceland - in fact, they are the exact same springs that are present year round… but when it’s 35°F outside, the constant 72°F spring water that freezes your whole body in the sweltering summer heat actually feels much like a hot tub!

Life just above the water's surface at Silver Glen.

An early morning haze on the water and an empty spring greeted me and Danielle when we arrived at Silver Glen in mid-January. Pelicans, vultures, herons, and anhinga abounded at or above the water’s surface, but we truly weren’t prepared for what waited below the sparkling surface.

New Englanders often say that they would miss the change of seasons if they lived in Florida, and I promise, from experience, that you don’t. Seasons do in fact exist in north Florida– and they are most striking underwater. By the water’s edge, the leaves on the bald cypress trees change color and there are fragrant flowers practically year round. Underwater, algae waxes and wanes while macrophytes flower at different times throughout the year. But what is the most magnificent to observe is the organisms who use the springs as a thermal refuge in the winter, hiding from the cold river and lake temperatures just like we hide from the chilly temperatures on land by escaping to the springs.

Seasonal fish visitors at Silver Glen create dizzying distortions underwater.

An anhinga takes advantage of the large winter aggregation of fish as tilapia guard their nests in the background - it's hunting time!

We had both been to Silver Glen in the winter and observed the slender silver ladyfish and (invasive) tilapia in mass quantities, dotted with a few striped bass, (often flying) mullet, prehistoric gar, and friendly sunfish here and there.  But never did we expect a single manatee, swimming elegantly in the main spring boil, parting the sea of fish to glide out the spring run towards Lake George.

A rare sight at Silver Glen (and in general) - a single manatee gracefully parted the sea of fish as we entered the water.

Sighting prehistoric gar in the shallows is always exciting!

Even being prepared for the number of fish in the spring does no good – your heart still skips several beats as your eyes go in and out of focus, trying to distinguish flowing water from fish. Their grayish blue monotones moving as large masses in the distance give the illusion that the whole spring is alive, moving melodiously yet unpredictably - you totally lose perspective immediately upon submerging yourself into this other watery world.

Losing perspective - which way is up? Are we flying? Photo creed for this neat disorienting GoPro shot goes to Greg!

It is this loss of perspective that can be quite refreshing and exhilarating – the landscape is endless in all directions and looking upwards from the bottom, you realize you are being pushed towards the sky against gravity. Fish that darted out of the way to give you a clear path to the distant spring boil below reform quickly overhead like a cloud on a rainy day.

Forecast: blue skies with a chance of fish overhead. Mermaid sightings are rare but possible :)

 This loss of perspective and escape to another world is one of the many reasons I first fell in love with the springs and have been compelled to practice and become addicted to underwater photography. But it was these very photos and long hours spent in the springs, that led me to see that the springs can be captured beautifully, but there is a dark side to the apparent springs fairytale.

There is a dark side to the springs fairytale, visible just below this endless school of ladyfish.

In my blog posts, I usually tell the story of the photo versus the story the photo tells. The story of the photo is the adventure – how we got there, what it feels like to float weightless in space, and what we experienced throughout the day.

But the story the photo itself tells may be a totally different animal – it describes the science, what is physically going on in the picture and the spring, the health of the ecosystem. Inside the frame, the artist shows you something from his or her perspective. Nobody really wants to see a bowl of algae or greenish tinged water. I did take photos of the invasive tilapia, which may spark controversy by calling them beautiful, but all things considered, it is sometimes nice to appreciate the beauty of exotics/invasives or at least choose to see the beauty in the breakdown – I am not ashamed or alone in admitting that while flowing algae makes me feel sick to my stomach because I understand its implications, it does have its own way of looking elegant.

(ABOVE) Inside the frame - torpedo-like ladyfish dance in the sky…
…versus (BELOW) Outside the frame, this is the view 180 degrees from the shot above, only about 10 meters from the elegant ladyfish above. This is a mat of the toxic cyanophyte Lyngbya wollei, which forms dense mats in springs, often outcompeting and replacing native vegetation.

I do not do multiple exposures or layer images or use photoshop, but the photos I take and choose to share often portray the beauty of spring ecosystems that, despite their brilliance, are suffering. This goes to show that often, what is just outside the frame may tell an equally compelling (and in this case tragic) story.  Inside and outside the frame, we see evidence that these marvelous ecosystems are declining – giving us a fair warning that our perspective regarding water (including consumption, pollution, and science) must be changed – we need what Cynthia Barnett calls a Blue Revolution** and we need it now.

Outside the frame: dense mats of Lyngbya wollei just outside the natural well at Silver Glen.

Algae aside, Danielle and I decided that instead of hopelessly trying to convey the fact that our photos didn't do the magic of the springs justice, the best way to share our enthusiasm was to make the trek out to the forest again the next weekend with the Longs, Greg, Val, and Jenna:

(Top)  Greg checks out the spring, (middle left) plays with the GoPro in the sky, (middle right) a school of ladyfish engulf Danielle, and (bottom) Val dives down to check out the shallow part of the basin.

**Everybody should read Barnett’s Blue Revolution (and earlier book Mirage). In Mirage, she eloquently tells the story of Florida and water and in Blue Revolution, she takes a more global perspective – unveiling truths about water and our unsustainable relationship with this resource to which we are so inextricably tied – all while still showing that there is a glimpse of hope if we get our act together. I urge you to read them if you have not done so already J

"Fairy-tails" - views from the eyes of a mermaid

From the eyes of the mermaids, everything is blue. Surrounded by a cool silence, they swim in a relaxing piece of watery paradise, and from below, it appears as if they are swimming in an ethereal azure sky. You may think that mermaids are only real in fairytales, but fortunately life can sometimes be a "fairytail" too.

Mermaids aren't real? After you dive in to this story, you may have to think again...

In the chilly off-season when all of the springs-goers and river tubers have retired to their warm homes and indoor pools on the weekends, other creatures appear in the springs. The secret is that the spring water, emerging from the Floridan aquifer below,  remains a constant ~70 degrees F year round - perfect for mermaiding in all seasons. It is during these quiet times of year that you are most likely to spot a mermaid gracefully gliding just  below the surface.

At this point, you may be skeptical having never seen a mermaid with your own eyes. You may not trust these pictures either, but please wait before you make your final judgement! My childhood dreams (and perhaps that of every little girl who has ever seen The Little Mermaid) came true once on June 18, 2012 when I was transformed into a mermaid for a day while helping at a video shoot held at Rainbow Springs for Eric Ducharme and his mermaids. That night, I wrote "A Mermaid's Tail", which includes "How to become a mermaid (in 10 easy steps!)" and decided that my life would never be the same. And it certainly has not. Call me crazy, but since that day, I have dreamed of having my own tail. Yes, my friend Danielle and I swim in the springs, taking pictures and dolphin kicking around in our long flippers practically every weekend and call this "mermaiding," but for the full effect, tails are necessary. And on October 11, 2013, my dreams came true for the second time, thanks to my very own amazing prince. 

Greg and I at Gilchrist Blue Spring :)
Greg set up a surprise treasure hunt that took me all over the entire Ginnie Springs property on my birthday - and at the end, there was a gift certificate to get my own personalized tail from The Mertailor Eric Ducharme! I sent in a crazy number of measurements (ankle, thigh, calf, and knee circumference, waist, hips, shoe size, etc.), and by mid-November, I received my tail in the mail. Greg, you are truly too amazing.  

My tail arrived mid-week and I anxiously (barely) made it through the rest of the week of school (yes, mermaids have day jobs and for this one, it's being a PhD student - thankfully my field work is in the springs… sans tail, but I'll take it). On Friday, November 22, 2013, while New England was amidst a chilly winter and it crossed nobody else's mind to head to Gilchrist Blue Springs, Greg and I did just that. 

Slipping into my tail on the dock, I lost my legs and became useless on land; I was left with no choice but to slide into the water. With a big breath, a little leap of faith, and a few flicks of my tail, I was off into another watery world.

As I slipped into the water, Greg wasn't far behind with the GoPro. A huge thank you to him for being not only the best boyfriend in the world but also for capturing this beautiful day using the GoPro!

 So what is it like to swim in the tail? For me personally, it's an escape - no matter what is stressing me out or going on above water, swimming in general (and more specifically in my tail!) is a perfect break, just like yoga, exercise, or playing an instrument for others. I'm not the most graceful person above water, but the tail allows me to glide along with the fishes and turtles with effortless elegance as I'm surrounded by my favorite ecosystems in the world - the springs.

Besides being an escape, swimming in the tail is actually a great workout. Usually, I don't last long swimming around in no wetsuit, so when I jump in the water to take photos or go cave diving, I can always be found in a full wetsuit, hood, booties, and sometimes even gloves. Besides the fact that mermaids can't wear wetsuits (and especially not drysuits) or masks, you actually stay fairly warm because of the way you have to swim in the tail. The swimming motion is similar to doing the butterfly stroke or doing "the worm" - it's an undulating motion like a sine curve, similar to how a whale, dolphin or manatee swims. And it definitely works your abs! So, as crazy as it sounds, mermaiding is in fact a workout, not to mention you're holding your breath the whole time. Now open your eyes underwater, don't use your arms to propel yourself forward, and smile for the camera, perhaps blow underwater kisses or some o-ring bubbles and move with finesse - now you're starting to master the art of mermaiding! It's a work in progress, but it's certainly something that's fun to work at while I'm not in class or doing research - any time spent underwater is time well spent.

So next time you're out at the springs and you catch a glimpse of a flash of blue, don't mistake it for a shark, a dolphin, or a figment of your imagination, because mermaids do not only exist at the legendary Weeki Wachee and in fairytales - they are in fact very real and may be swimming in your drinking water - they are perhaps much closer than you think.

><((((°>     ><((((°>     ><((((°>

Wait… where did the mermaid go?! Above water, I guess they disappear ;)

Special thanks to "Again and Again" handmade bags (made from recycled sails!) of Gloucester, MA for my fantastic mermaid bag!! You can check out their website to see all of their unique products made of sails using this link.

Manatee Morning

As the minutes passed and turned into hours, I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. It was one of those end-of-the-semester nights when your mind rushes and and, no matter what you try, it is impossible to will yourself to sleep. The feeling was brought on by a mix of stress and excitement, and it was certainly the closest I've felt to a little kid on Christmas Eve in a very long time - but for very exciting reasons!

I had impatiently waited all day, jumping at any and every noise that sounded anything remotely like a UPS truck. I must have sprung up from my chair at least a dozen times to press my face to the window - both taking a brief study break from an endless term paper and to see if there were any brown trucks in the driveway. Finally, at 8 p.m., I got word that a package had just been delivered to the front office, which prompted me to sprint over in my pajamas and run back to my apartment with a 15 + pound box containing my new camera and housing!!! Christmas came a week early this year :)

It's time to bring the SLR underwater!! A huge upgrade from my little SeaLife, but that camera and I have been on so many adventures!

I spent the next few hours unpacking each individually-wrapped piece and carefully assembling and testing the housing for leaks. By the time I was finished, it was almost 11 p.m… getting closer and closer to the 4 a.m. manatee wake up call. Long story short, I managed to get about 1 hour of sleep between 2:30 and 3:30ish, and by the time 3:45 a.m. came around, I was in some sort of adrenaline-induced haze. Half sleep-walking and half dreaming, we bundled up and drove to meet Danielle and Mark in a pitch dark Publix parking lot, drove 1.5 hours to Crystal River, and jumped on the 6:00 a.m. pontoon boat leaving the dock from Bird's Underwater.

Some things make sacrificing a little bit of sleep 100% worth it. A beautiful sunrise over Crystal River on our way to 3 Sisters Springs.  

After watching a spectacular sunrise over the river, Greg, Danielle, Mark S., Mark L., Annette, and I arrived at 3 Sisters Springs to find dozens of manatees keeping warm in and around the sanctuary. Losing no time and taking advantage of being one of the first two boats to arrive, we all suited up and hopped in the water, cameras in hand.

Chilly 40-something degree air temperatures left a haze on the 70 degree spring water when we first jumped in. 

The minute you submerge your face into the steaming water and the suspended sand clears from view, you are immediately transported back in time. Before your eyes, prehistoric creatures, ancient relatives of elephants, emerge, floating effortlessly throughout the spring. And they are much bigger than they appear in pictures. Some were resting on the bottom alone, others joined to make a big pig pile of sleeping manatees, with one or two slowly rising to the surface at any given time to take in a long, relaxing breath, and then settle back down to continue their nap. It's kind of like that whack-a-mole game - but 100 times the size… and underwater. 

Pile 'o manatee.

Others walk along the bottom using their pectoral fins, making them look like confused hybrid land/sea creatures (and if you look closely, you can see the vestiges of toenails reminiscent of elephant feet!): 

Walking along the bottom - and looking very curious!

Others are more curious and often swim right up to the camera… maybe being friendly or perhaps just checking themselves out in the big dome port that acts as a mirror:

It's as if he is posing for the camera! He swam up within inches of my lens.

Even without a camera, they are extremely affable and curious creatures… especially this baby manatee! He interacted with us for almost the entire 2 hours we spent in the water - even when we would purposefully swim away to give him space, he would come back and play.

They are absolutely amazing animals and are so much fun to interact with in the water, although by the end of our ~2 hour swim, boatloads of people started showing up and I definitely started feeling the effects of humans "loving them to death" (aka too many people crowding or spooking the manatees), which can be seen in this short National Geographic time lapse video called Manatee Madness. Swimming with these majestic, ancient mammals is a special experience that I hope many people are fortunate enough to experience, but as with all human interactions with wildlife, it does require us to be respectful and cognizant that they are wild animals. Crystal River is perhaps the only place in the world where you are allowed to touch the manatees (with one hand, if they approach you) and it is truly a wonderful and memorable experience... I hope that we are able to interact with them in a way that does not disrupt them so we may continue to have the privilege of swimming with them for many years to come!

How could you not love that face?! 

Greg and I smiling through our snorkels - so happy to be swimming with the manatees… can't wait to go back!

The rest of my photos are in my Gentle Giants Facebook album.