On Wednesday (Oct 23rd) we headed for our final terrestrial ecology field trip. The end of our program has been slowly creeping up, but now we're starting to see it a little more closely each day. This field trip meant the last of John Hall, and our wonderful tutors Toby, Sean, and Alana, who we had come to love like family. Sausage, our steadfast bus driver and DJ chauffeured us 10 hours west of Brisbane, into the dry bush of Australia. The sun began to set when we were about 50 km from the campground. I have been on this planet for 8035 days, all of which concluded with a setting sun. But, I have never seen a sunset like this, my friends. Just above the horizon sprinkled with red rock plateaus, a cumulus cloud cover cradled that blazing ball of gas in the sky. The light of the sun could not be contained in these thick white aggregations of moisture and the excess light beamed down to the resting earth. As the beams spread across the sky, they caught the moisture of the clouds and the spectrum of wavelengths revealed all the colors of the rainbow. My classmates jokingly shouted, "It's God coming down!" but jokes aside, it was absolutely a heavenly scene. The crest of the clouds glittered with gold. It was God showing off the amazing power He has to create beauty, and it was breathtakingly perfect.
We arrived to the campsite just as the darkness crept in and rushed to pitch our tents and prepare our luxurious cots (that's not sarcastic, they were awesome). After a speedy dinner for our sleepy selves, John Hall delivered a lecture about his adored cycads. These relict gymnosperms from the Jurassic period stood proudly in the spotlight of our his PhD. With their spiky green fronds and fire resistant bark, they have withstood the test of time. After the lecture, we headed to our beds, which now rested just outside our tents in a nice clump as per John's suggestion. Why? Because the night sky in the middle of Australia, two hours from any civilization, is BEAUTIFUL. As soon as I laid my head down I saw three shooting stars. We could see the Milky Way, thick with nebula, hanging effortlessly above our heads, as untouched as it was thousands of years ago.
Our first full day in Carnarvon Gorge was packed with hiking and secret places. Toby, our bee-obsessed terrestrial tutor, led us through the dry sclerophyll forest. Although it has the same giant eucalypts and ancient casuarina trees we had seen before, Carnarvon is unique because of its cycads. These palm-like plants are exactly what the dinosaurs would have seen when they stepped foot on Carnarvon's harsh, nutrient-poor earth. As we hiked the trail, I couldn't help but imagine giant brachiosauruses foraging in the trees overhead. It wouldn't have surprised me one bit if a stegosaurus crossed my path. We climbed a ladder into a sort of open cave, through a tunnel which led to an opening with just a few plants tucked into the rock edges. Once inside we sat for five minutes in silence, just enjoying the peace of the earth. The smooth sandstone served as my backrest as it scaled towards the sky. Birds fed along the brush in the center of our small gathering place. It was a simple silence, with the sun bearing down on us, but it felt right. A moment taken to be still is never a moment wasted.
After this, Toby showed us the "Aboriginal art gallery," a jaw-dropping peek back into time. On one of the walls of the gorge were ancient wall drawings. They could have been hundreds or thousands of years old, it's hard to say. By grinding colored red or yellow rocks, the Aboriginals created an ochre paint, which they then held in their mouths and sprayed against an object to form a stencil on the wall. This ochre paint put their boomerangs, children's hands, and old axes on display for us. Looking at the wall filled with the only remaining evidence of these hardy individuals, I found it hard to understand how I could be so blessed to see something so incredibly special. I was looking at the teeny tiny fingers of a little Aboriginal boy who survived off of cycad seeds, kangaroo meat, and wild figs. The fingers that touched that wall so many years ago had battled the elements of arid Australia. Those little fingers had carved didgeridoos and held his mothers hand as she told him the stories of Aboriginal dreamtime. And here they were, splayed out before me. It was my first experience witnessing anything remotely similar to "cave paintings," and is not something I will forget. It was a gift just to imagine what their lives were like as they held their boomerangs to the wall and spread their paint. Although it may not have been their intention, their simple art will allow them to live forever. Every time a hiker like me sees those handprints, the Aboriginal to whom they belonged continues to live on in spirit. By framing each of their fingers and beloved boomerangs, these individuals have left their mark on planet earth. The simplicity of the red paint hugging the crevices of fingers was inspiration for me. To just do what I do. To be me. If my footprint happens to remain in the sand, so be it. But even if time doesn't hold that footprint in place, the earth will remember where I stepped. And God will remember where I stepped. And therefore that footprint matters.
The next day we hiked with John to some very secret places. Across the boulders and through the gorge we went, following our curly-haired professor. At the base of a set of stairs he stopped us and told us to hold hands and close our eyes. We obeyed and slowly moved forward, step by step, relying only on each other for support. We paused as John encouraged us to use our other senses to figure out what was near us. The air smelled fresh, we heard the sound of trickling water, and felt the moisture on our skin. Our eyes opened and a moss garden sat before us. Green tufts coated the sides of the rocks as water dripped to their thirsty cells. A fissure in the side of the cliff face allowed ground water to seep out very slowly, one drop at a time. And where there is water, there is life. Each drop of water glistened in the sun so that there appeared to be little stars twinkling among the mosses. In the middle of the Australian outback was an oasis. Mosses are one of the first plants to evolve and their simple structure has survived for eons. Absorbing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere 470 million years ago, mosses created some of earth's first sugars. And now the great-great-great..grandchildren of those very first mosses captured the fresh water of Carnarvon Gorge. The simplicity of it all swept me into a state of silence. How could something so simple as water, green pigment, and sunlight be so beautiful? But here it was, existing. Simply existing.
When we weren't doing our field work (measuring ant abundance, drawing profile diagrams, observing kangaroo behavior...) we were cooling off in the swimming hole. The cool waters that ran through the gorge were the perfect refreshment after our long hikes. Toby crushed rocks and made a paint of his own and soon we were all covered in creative drawings. The paint may have washed off, but Toby still left his mark on the hearts of many of us. All of the tutors were absolutely exceptional. Alana is a sweet, soft-spoken woman with a heart for organic farming. Sean is a young, enthusiastic surfer-type who grew up on a cattle farm in Victoria and is now working on coral conservation. Toby, the bearded one, has a heart for bees and can identify the country of origin of any honey based solely on taste. As I said before, our final terrestrial ecology field trip made us all very sentimental and we made a supreme effort to spend as much quality time together as possible. I really am so in love with everyone on my trip. It feels as though everyone that was supposed to be here is here, and no one is missing. I feel as though this is exactly where I am supposed to be, part of this tight-knit family. We have survived the cold of Girraween together, the blue-ringed octopus of Straddy, and the lengthy research papers that kept us up all night.
The last day of the Carnarvon made me really realize how incredibly loved I am and how much I love others. The last day was my birthday. I woke up on the beach by the creek and the second I opened my eyes, my friends started shouting, "Happy Birthday Sara!" Thirty-eight birthday greetings is not a bad way to start your day. Hugs and love abounded and my special day made me feel like I was on top of the world. One guy even deemed it Sara-day, which I have absolutely no problem with. The day proceeded with beautiful hikes along the river, more swimming and painting, and tree distribution studies. The real fun came at night, though. After a wonderfully sweet Happy Birthday song, Sean brought out a cake and I blew out my 22 candles. Everyone had sneakily signed a card for me and the caring words brought tears to my eyes. They surrounded me in a group hug as they sang, embracing me so tightly that me feet were lifted from the ground. I just really cannot believe how blessed I am to be able to receive so much love. God has taught me so much over the past few years about what it means to open my heart. There was a period of my life where fear of being hurt caused my heart to be closed tightly. But since the love of friends, selfless Costa Rican children, and God has poured into my life, my heart is now unrestrained. Not only can I love others fully, but I can receive love fully. And that freedom from fear has blessed me in so many ways. To be loved is absolutely everything. Yes, the sunlight stretching from clouds to horizon and the water dripping over mosses inspires me to appreciate beauty, but nothing but the hearts of others could inspire me more. So in Carnarvon Gorge, I found inspiration. Not just in the beauty of nature, but inside of my friends and teachers. The inspiration to continue to be exactly who I am because I do me better than anyone else could. So why would I try to be any other way? Inspiration to grab hold of my passions and cling tightly to them, ceasing to let go. Inspiration to continue to love in a way so big that it hurts sometimes. Because if we're not loving, then what are we doing? If we're not enjoying each other's company, then why did God put other people on this earth with us? I have long fought the battle for independence, but the fact of the matter is I'm not independent. I need people and they need me. We need people to encourage us, to remind ourselves that we are created perfectly. And it is our duty to remind people of this same thing. Look into the heart of your beloved friends and find your inspiration in them.
Every year John concludes the last night of the field trip with a talent show. We were all prompted to come up with some sort of performance to wow each other. Me being the excited attention-loving birthday girl, participated in three such performances. My favorite was an improvisational skit, along the same lines of Whose Line is it Anyway (great TV show if you haven't heard of it). My job was to have a birthday party and guess who each guest was acting as. Lucky me, I had Beyonce, Britney Spears, Baby Buddha, and Dolby at my party! All of the other skits were amazing, and I fell on the floor laughing on more than one occasion. As each of us stepped onto the stage, I felt the love in my heart for these people expand all the more. The last performance was a poem written by my beautiful friend Kate. She had compiled a poem for John Hall, letting him know just how much he had impacted us. We were balling by the end of it because it so accurately summed up just how much influence this one man had on each of our lives.
By far the best lecturer I have ever had in my life, his stories made learning so enjoyable. It never felt like we were in a classroom- we were always at storytime with John. He not only taught us about the fire resistant strategy of the Xanthorrhea plant, but how to love each other well. How to unite and work together. How to see the best in each other. He inspired us to observe nature from not just a scientific standpoint, but from a spiritual one. He gave life to trees, made them seem like friends with souls and personalities rather than sticks with leaves. He opened the night sky to us, made it tangible. He showed us other galaxies (literally, Magellanic clouds are two of our neighbor galaxies and can be seen from the Southern Hemisphere). He let us step back in time and imagine what it was like to walk with dinosaurs. There are not many men like John Hall out there, but I think he inspired us to be the best we can be. And maybe someday a student will write a blog and describe how inspired they were by Sara Thompson, or Xanth El-Sayed, or Kate Meyer (friends in my program). The point is, we are the inspiration. I believe in a God who loves me so much that He gave me a purpose for existing. My feet were made to walk this earth and my footsteps will remain even when I don't. Inspiration can be found in the smallest things. I have found it in baby seahorses and I have found it in the Bible. The important thing to remember is that not matter where we find inspiration, we must cling to it.
Romans 12:9 says "Let love be without hypocrisy... cling to what is good." In this way, we love and we are inspired. And as the sun sets tonight as it always does, I am reminded of the vast amount of love God allows me to have for people. And every ounce of love I pour out, I know I'll get back tenfold. Now that's inspiring.
Our first full day in Carnarvon Gorge was packed with hiking and secret places. Toby, our bee-obsessed terrestrial tutor, led us through the dry sclerophyll forest. Although it has the same giant eucalypts and ancient casuarina trees we had seen before, Carnarvon is unique because of its cycads. These palm-like plants are exactly what the dinosaurs would have seen when they stepped foot on Carnarvon's harsh, nutrient-poor earth. As we hiked the trail, I couldn't help but imagine giant brachiosauruses foraging in the trees overhead. It wouldn't have surprised me one bit if a stegosaurus crossed my path. We climbed a ladder into a sort of open cave, through a tunnel which led to an opening with just a few plants tucked into the rock edges. Once inside we sat for five minutes in silence, just enjoying the peace of the earth. The smooth sandstone served as my backrest as it scaled towards the sky. Birds fed along the brush in the center of our small gathering place. It was a simple silence, with the sun bearing down on us, but it felt right. A moment taken to be still is never a moment wasted.
The next day we hiked with John to some very secret places. Across the boulders and through the gorge we went, following our curly-haired professor. At the base of a set of stairs he stopped us and told us to hold hands and close our eyes. We obeyed and slowly moved forward, step by step, relying only on each other for support. We paused as John encouraged us to use our other senses to figure out what was near us. The air smelled fresh, we heard the sound of trickling water, and felt the moisture on our skin. Our eyes opened and a moss garden sat before us. Green tufts coated the sides of the rocks as water dripped to their thirsty cells. A fissure in the side of the cliff face allowed ground water to seep out very slowly, one drop at a time. And where there is water, there is life. Each drop of water glistened in the sun so that there appeared to be little stars twinkling among the mosses. In the middle of the Australian outback was an oasis. Mosses are one of the first plants to evolve and their simple structure has survived for eons. Absorbing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere 470 million years ago, mosses created some of earth's first sugars. And now the great-great-great..grandchildren of those very first mosses captured the fresh water of Carnarvon Gorge. The simplicity of it all swept me into a state of silence. How could something so simple as water, green pigment, and sunlight be so beautiful? But here it was, existing. Simply existing.
When we weren't doing our field work (measuring ant abundance, drawing profile diagrams, observing kangaroo behavior...) we were cooling off in the swimming hole. The cool waters that ran through the gorge were the perfect refreshment after our long hikes. Toby crushed rocks and made a paint of his own and soon we were all covered in creative drawings. The paint may have washed off, but Toby still left his mark on the hearts of many of us. All of the tutors were absolutely exceptional. Alana is a sweet, soft-spoken woman with a heart for organic farming. Sean is a young, enthusiastic surfer-type who grew up on a cattle farm in Victoria and is now working on coral conservation. Toby, the bearded one, has a heart for bees and can identify the country of origin of any honey based solely on taste. As I said before, our final terrestrial ecology field trip made us all very sentimental and we made a supreme effort to spend as much quality time together as possible. I really am so in love with everyone on my trip. It feels as though everyone that was supposed to be here is here, and no one is missing. I feel as though this is exactly where I am supposed to be, part of this tight-knit family. We have survived the cold of Girraween together, the blue-ringed octopus of Straddy, and the lengthy research papers that kept us up all night.
The last day of the Carnarvon made me really realize how incredibly loved I am and how much I love others. The last day was my birthday. I woke up on the beach by the creek and the second I opened my eyes, my friends started shouting, "Happy Birthday Sara!" Thirty-eight birthday greetings is not a bad way to start your day. Hugs and love abounded and my special day made me feel like I was on top of the world. One guy even deemed it Sara-day, which I have absolutely no problem with. The day proceeded with beautiful hikes along the river, more swimming and painting, and tree distribution studies. The real fun came at night, though. After a wonderfully sweet Happy Birthday song, Sean brought out a cake and I blew out my 22 candles. Everyone had sneakily signed a card for me and the caring words brought tears to my eyes. They surrounded me in a group hug as they sang, embracing me so tightly that me feet were lifted from the ground. I just really cannot believe how blessed I am to be able to receive so much love. God has taught me so much over the past few years about what it means to open my heart. There was a period of my life where fear of being hurt caused my heart to be closed tightly. But since the love of friends, selfless Costa Rican children, and God has poured into my life, my heart is now unrestrained. Not only can I love others fully, but I can receive love fully. And that freedom from fear has blessed me in so many ways. To be loved is absolutely everything. Yes, the sunlight stretching from clouds to horizon and the water dripping over mosses inspires me to appreciate beauty, but nothing but the hearts of others could inspire me more. So in Carnarvon Gorge, I found inspiration. Not just in the beauty of nature, but inside of my friends and teachers. The inspiration to continue to be exactly who I am because I do me better than anyone else could. So why would I try to be any other way? Inspiration to grab hold of my passions and cling tightly to them, ceasing to let go. Inspiration to continue to love in a way so big that it hurts sometimes. Because if we're not loving, then what are we doing? If we're not enjoying each other's company, then why did God put other people on this earth with us? I have long fought the battle for independence, but the fact of the matter is I'm not independent. I need people and they need me. We need people to encourage us, to remind ourselves that we are created perfectly. And it is our duty to remind people of this same thing. Look into the heart of your beloved friends and find your inspiration in them.
Every year John concludes the last night of the field trip with a talent show. We were all prompted to come up with some sort of performance to wow each other. Me being the excited attention-loving birthday girl, participated in three such performances. My favorite was an improvisational skit, along the same lines of Whose Line is it Anyway (great TV show if you haven't heard of it). My job was to have a birthday party and guess who each guest was acting as. Lucky me, I had Beyonce, Britney Spears, Baby Buddha, and Dolby at my party! All of the other skits were amazing, and I fell on the floor laughing on more than one occasion. As each of us stepped onto the stage, I felt the love in my heart for these people expand all the more. The last performance was a poem written by my beautiful friend Kate. She had compiled a poem for John Hall, letting him know just how much he had impacted us. We were balling by the end of it because it so accurately summed up just how much influence this one man had on each of our lives.
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