Searching for paradise

There is a hole in the Gulf of Mexico which is spilling millions of gallons of oil into our Gulf water and there is a hole in my heart which is gushing its own emotional toxic mix. I'm up; I'm down. My short-term memory has been affected. My sleep patterns are disrupted following nights I work as a Wildlife Observer, but though the process seems futile at times, being involved with clean-up has somewhat helped me deal with the disaster.

Some days I deal with despair at what I see on the beach and some days I am encouraged when the water at least looks clear and colorful as a normal summer day and I discover windswept dunes which are still pristine, like the ones above.

I constantly search for reassurance that our beautiful paradise is still here by looking beyond the oiled beaches and clean-up crews which have replaced small groups of fisherman along the shore at dawn, and finding solace in places like these dunes which help heal my soul. They make me think of an old hymn whose lyrics I've slightly updated:

There is a balm in Gilead

To make the wounded whole

There is a balm in Gilead

To heal the sin oil-sick soul