Wild Thing

beach at sunrise or sunset

“There are some who can live without wild things and some who cannot.”


Aldo Leopold

I cannot. 

Last night friends and I celebrated the birthday of a wild and witchy woman.  Many of you know about The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pen, a group of five women authors in which I am delighted to be a part.

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Well, yesterday was Ruth Burkett Week’s birthday.  Ruth is our passionate, wild, knock-you-on-your-ass sister.  Okay, all of The Sisters have those characteristics to some degree, but Ruth is the instigator of those qualities in us.  Ruth is the one I call upon for righteous anger when I haven’t yet gotten beyond desolate depression over some slight.  Ruth stirs me up, kicks my butt, and sends me own my way into the world.

moon

Last night was a lunar eclipse.  Ruth planned to watch it while sipping Captain Morgan and Dr Pepper.  Honest to God, that’s what the woman drinks. 

The last time I watched a lunar eclipse, I was on a night dive in the Mexican Yucatan.  The dive was blessed with sea turtles and nurse sharks and the beautiful, dancing translucence of squid.  But the real magic of that night came when I surfaced through a shimmering world of phosphorescent algae.  manta ray

People are nervous on a night dive, images of hungry shark flit in their brains.   Which, on that night, was good for me.  While a dozen tourists were plucked from the ocean one by one, happy to have survived the dive, I floated in the glimmer while the earth’s shadow swallowed the full moon.  When the boat was full and it was my turn to come aboard, I conned the captain into taking the tourists back to the dive shop and coming back out for me.

So, for almost an hour, I lay on my back, stirred my hands to make angel wings of the shimmering algae and fell under the spell of the ocean at night.  Did it occur to me that large, sharp toothed, night-feeding predators lurked in the waters below me?

It did. 

Was I worried?  Not at all.  You see Leopold was right.

There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot.  Some of us feast on wild things, become one with them, and grow in their possibilities.

Somehow, last night, all these years later, standing on my deck after the party and looking up at the darkening moon, picturing my friend with her horrible rum and Dr Pepper, I felt that Ruth had been there with me all those years ago on that shimmering ocean. 

Wild things recognize one another after all.  And they’re connected.  We’re all connected.

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About Author and Speaker Pamela Foster

Pamela Foster is a speaker and author. Her first book, Redneck Goddess, is available at local bookstores and on Amazon. Her second book, Bigfoot Blues, will be available in August 2012.
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5 Responses to Wild Thing

  1. ruth says:

    OMG! I’m speechless. This is beautiful. I can you see floating out there with just God and moon and a huge smile on your face, and, of course, my spirit was right beside you! It will always be beside you no matter where you go or what you do.
    And, yes, I am a wild one, and damn proud of it.
    Thank you, my wild buddy with the purple streak for a most touching, inspiring, beautiful post.

  2. Wow. I love it. Props to you for doing something I wouldn’t. I admit to being a big old chicken when it comes to what lurks beneath the surface of the ocean. I love the imagery, though, and can imagine floating on the salty surface, lit by the moon. Beautiful

  3. Eric says:

    I think it was Captain Morgan who said, “Be wild or thee shall wane.” Or was it Doctor Pepper?

  4. I’m so happy you viewed the lunar eclipse. My only visions were of dropping into bed in our new digs after a wild three days of moving. Some things are as wild as the creatures out there. Happy birthday Ruth. Love you.

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