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Reflections Written in Oil
By: Chelsea L. Milam

Wow...This is only getting worse.  I just read an article on Yahoo News about the oil leak workers latest attempt to seal it shut has failed.  Another plan is in action, and confidences are high that it will succeed.  I fear what happens if it doesn't, however.  An alternate well reservoir is being created and should be completed in August.  It's the largest oil spill in history, they proclaim.  Wow...  What can we do to help?  I sometimes feel powerless, hopeless for all the living creatures, all the commerce, that is suffering from this ill-guided mishap.  I hate the phrase "I told you so," and I hate to feel that I told them so.

Living at the beach is paradise.  Though taken for granted-as most things are to persons constantly subjected to a repetitive thing-when I stop to take in the view of my world, my beach, I realize that it is an outdoor luxury spa.  There is a freedom about the sea that speaks to millions.  God's miraclistic landscape saves us, brings us serenity and rejuvenates our soul.  I picture:  touching the Gulf, our beautiful Gulf waters.  Warm and inviting waves, clear in color except when the seaweed pays a visit; soft white sand, of a powder-like consistency.  Seagulls screaming, begging for just one Dorito-then just one more; schools of pocket-sized fish nip at the water's human visitors, and slap blinding against their ankles. 

I am so thankful that the oil spill has not found it way here, yet poor Louisiana-they will not see a marsh unstained with oil for years.  Their economy is failing-Panama City Beach's economy is faltering.  We are a seafood and tourist industry, and an oil spill causes tremors.  I must say I am happy to report this Memorial Day weekend alive and well at the beach; backed-up traffic on the highway is a wonderful sign-as imbecile as it feels to us locals-of income.  It is not my income, but it supports it through our city's working tier.  Money flows, we prosper-or, at the very least, survive.  And survial is a great thing.  Yet the lack of control demonstrated by company, corporation, research technology facilities and government in regards to the oil spill accident is terrifyingly disheartening.  How can I trust to survive when there are parties making decisions that they are unable to recitfy at the utmost imperative time of needing to show their full strength and competence?  The fact is that I cannot trust a decision that has consequences this dire because those consequences should never have been given the opportunity to take place.  That the past is unchangable, I regret to say is a sad excuse that could never be objectified to the wildlife suffering from this economical and environmental crisis.

Speaking of survival, I feel immense pain for the wounded, dying, suffering animals.  The killed dolphins, the pelicans with oil being suctioned out of their throats by workers.  Thank goodness there are caring people in this world to lend a hand.  This thought has of course occured to me many times, and I have acted upon it in the past.  Of late I have been inclined to save what I am able from the disasters of this spill.  I suffer from the thought of an animal suffering from anything, but worse is something God did not send us.  Their pain comes from something man made, and destroyed...I signed up almost a month ago with my local Red Cross to help out, and we weren't needed at the time. Perhaps everyone on the Gulf Coast should offer their help as well. It could come to our beaches. I want to help those suffering now. I don't have money to give, but time I can afford.  I can make the effort, and I will.  Because when people are hurting we run to their aid.  Imagine these animals as the feeling, life-driven creatures that they are.  Can you fathom being held down from your usual life, suddenly-without notice, becoming sick, unable to move in the world in which you have always lived.  Like a cancer, without doctors, and chemotherapy, or natural health detox diets to aid it.  Their world becomes bleak.  I commend those volunteers in the field, and those behind the scenes-organizing, planning, contacting, and assessing.  Without these doctors of goodwill and hard work, the damage would be so much worse. 

Will the thousands of minds hypothesizing discover and prove a permanent solution to stop the oil from gushing into the Gulf waters?  This is my hope.  I would you utilize the images formed of the beauty of nature versus the beast of destruction to make a change.  The occurences at hand are not quite graspable as a whole, but perhaps, in minute sections-like brushing off pieces of earth from an ancient artifact-and in multiples of hundreds of these tiny formations, we will find a treasure awaiting us in the reward of our labors.  Then follows the effect of rippling as it travels its teensy way with each similar-sized wave of caring, compassion, effort, and effect; alas the seas part-or in our case, seal shut their cavernous pit of environmental massacre.  Alas we find ourselves safe, sound of mind, of spirit, and dollar.  An uneasy dream to bring forth, yet perhaps with so many hands we can restore much more than oil from a bird's wings.  I await my opportunity to be of use to those noble organizations with open eyes, ears, hands, and heart. 

 



Reference:

NUCKOLS, B. "BP's top kill effort fails to plug Gulf oil leak." 2010-05-30. http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_gulf_oil_spill

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Reflections Written in Oil
By: Chelsea L. Milam
   
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