Nature's Art (and Music) on Caspersen Beach in Venice Florida - by Raphaella Vaisseau

It's always beautiful at Caspersen Beach in Venice, Florida. I've experienced the beauty there many times since moving to the Gulf Coast almost four years ago. I have often said it feels to me like I'm walking in a watercolor painting when I'm there. Yesterday I had the same visual feast as I usually do, but it was the sounds, and my hearing, that awakened more fully during my walk.

Perhaps it was because only a scattering of humans were there. It's off-season here, and it was dinner time. I had just rushed downtown to the post office to get the day's Heartful Art orders in the mail before closing. As I left the post office and got into the van I love so much, I felt especially free and happy from the day's work. As I asked myself, where should I go from here, I remembered I still needed to get my daily walk in, so I decided to go the extra couple of miles to Caspersen.

It must have been dragonfly dinnertime too. As I drove on the road to the beach, a million dragonflies swarmed all around my van. I happen to love dragonflies, so I slowed way down to 10 mph so I wouldn't harm them in their frenzied flight. It was an awesome sight.

After parking and leaving my shoes in the van, I found my way to the beach. The quietness was evident right away. The surf was calm; the waves gently lapped the shore. No wind or crashing water this time. As I walked, I enjoyed the shore birds feeding; witnessed pelicans diving for fish with power, beauty, and graceful accuracy; and noticed egrets intently focused on the water around the moss-covered rocks on which they were perched.

I listened as I walked, and as I did my senses awakened even further. I heard the sound water makes as it sifts thru shells and fine sand as the surf moves out from shore. Like a subtle tinkling of a percussive musical instrument of some kind that I couldn't identify. I walked through nature's artwork that is Caspersen Beach and was treated as well to nature's concerto.

Filled with appreciation for the ability to see and hear these beautiful things, I completed my time on the beach, which felt more like a meditation than exercise. Actually, it was both. I walked on the shell-strewn sand toward where my van was parked. After brushing the sand from my feet, and putting on my shoes, I drove again on the beach road. I watched for the dragonflies, but they had settled down and had pretty much finished their snacking. Nighttime. Time for home.
- Raphaella Vaisseau

Venice on Dwellable

God's Living Church Tops an Extraordinary Week with Surf, Waterbirds, and Garden Flowers

What a artful week this has been, filled with new stores, art sales, and gallery possibilities, most of which stem from having Heartful Art at the Venice Farmer's Market on Saturday mornings from 8am to noon. The downtown market in Centennial Park in Venice has been exploding with energy and enthusiasm since Linda Wilson took over as our Market Manager at the end of last year.

Twice this week my customers at the market took the initiative to bring their Heartful Art purchases into their favorite stores, resulting in two new locations in Florida that now carry our motivational, life-affirming Heartful Art in their shops: Mrs. Candlewicke's Shoppe at 307 West Venice Avenue, downtown Venice (across from Bank of America), and Angel's Garden, at 1208 North 12th Avenue in Pensacola.

Another customer who visited my booth at the Venice Farmer's Market fell in love with my art. She came to my home studio this week to purchase two originals: Angelica Garden of Light, which she bought for a friend, and Tulips in the Sun, which will enjoy a spot on the wall of her young daughter's nursery. There was talk of more art and commissions in the future as she and her husband begin decorating their new home here in Venice. I am at work on a 30" x 40" watercolor masterpiece with a garden theme to include tulips, anemones, lilies of the valley, and peonys.

This morning I woke early at 5am (that's when I have to get up on market days and my inner clock now thinks it's wake-up time every other day of the week as well), made a cup of coffee and settled in to ready my current favorite light mystery novel by dog-lover author, David Rosenfelt. "Asbury Park has long been a key city on the shore," he writes, "which is how those of us from New Jersey refer to the beach." This got me thinking about the beach. And walking on the sand. And feeling the spray of the gulf on my skin, and hearing the sound of the surf.

As the sun came up and birds began chirping outside, I put down my book and I thought about going to church this morning. I've been meditating daily all week (with Abraham-Hicks "Getting Into The Vortex" cds) and I decided today it would be fun to be quiet, focus on my breathing, and go to Nature's Church.

I gathered up my binoculars, sunhat, and keys and I hopped in my beautiful van (that I love so much) and headed to Casperson Beach. Arriving at 7:30am I was surprised to see only two other humans on this whole stretch of magnificent beach. I'd never been there when the shore wasn't covered with shark-tooth-seeking people with their little wire scoops, bent over, heads down, searching for the little teeth amongst the shells at the waters edge. Having people there doesn't bother me. I enjoy witnessing families enjoying nature together in this beautiful place. However, the silence and emptiness of the beach this morning, sans humans, was lovely.

I walked alone for almost an hour, enjoying the sound of the surf and the feel of the cool wet sand sinking beneath my feet as I walked. I spotted a fairly large crab scurrying around watching me. It took refuge within the roped off area of a sea turtle's nest, knowing I couldn't go near. By the time my walk had ended, a dozen more humans had arrived. And yes, they had their wire scoops and were busy looking for sharks teeth.

On the way home from Casperson Beach, I stopped at the Venice Rookery, the reason for bringing my binoculars with me to "church." It's a small island in a pond behind the DMV where nesting water birds are protected by the Audubon Society. I don't have a good enough camera to capture the beauty of the nesting birds, but other bird lovers do. Here's a link to Steven Scott's photonaturalist blog and his pictures of birds at the Venice Rookery. My favorite image this morning, through my binoculars, was an adult great blue heron watching over a new hatchling. Adorable.

Filled with the beauty of spirit, nature, birds, sun, sand, and life in general, I returned home to continue my morning meditation by watering the gardens surrounding my home. I enjoyed the Anole lizards watching me and running from the water spray as I moved from plant to plant. I cleaned out the bird baths, and I and drank in the color of the blossoms on the garden flowers with my eyes. I enjoyed knowing the water I was showering on the plants, trees, and bushes would sink down into the ground where their roots would be nourished. All the while being mindful of my breathing in and breathing out. Just me surrounded by the beauty of our natural world.

Choosing to go to God's Green Church was a wonderful way to start the day, and a perfect way to end a magical week of art success, meditation, and opening possibilities.

May your blessings abound.
-Raphaella Vaisseau, www.heartfulart.com

NOTE: If you're so inclined, you can vote for the Venice Farmers Market in the American Farmland Trust's "America's Favorite Farmers Market" contest. Here's a link to vote. If you're voting for our market, simply enter 34293 in the Market Map at the bottom of the page, click GO, and then click on the icon that pops up on the map of Venice, Florida. (There's a place to make a comment about why you're voting but you can vote without writing anything if you prefer.)

All Nature's wildness - a quote by John Muir

Thunderstorms in Florida seem louder than anywhere else I’ve lived. It’s like the sky is closer here – twenty feet up instead of twenty miles. I have no idea if that’s real or an illusion of sound. I’ll probably get used to all the racket the longer I live here. For now, I’m enjoying it and marveling, once again, at the power of Mother Nature.

I haven't experienced a Florida hurricane yet. I hear we have a few days warning for that, unlike an earthquake.

I've been in a major earthquake (Northridge, Jan. 17, 1994). A frightening experience, to say the least. The sound of glass breaking all around me, and the gushing water from the toilet that had been dislodged from the pipes - all the furniture on the floor, doors blocked. Oh my.

My house was not nearly as damaged as my daughter's. She was closer to the epicenter. Days and months of aftershocks continued that experience. Earthquakes (the little tremors that made the lights shake) had been kind of "fun" up until then. After that day, I gained a new respect for power of nature and forevermore, I take preparedness seriously.

One summer day in Minneapolis, Minnesota, a waterspout (mini-tornado) hit our beach blanket at Lake Calhoun and lifted my daughter and her friend up and deposited them down on the sand again about 30 feet away. That was the most direct hit I've had at the hands of Mother Nature. I watched it form across the lake and travel on the surface of the water on a path that looked like it was aiming right for us. It picked up a sailboat on the shore before touching down on our blanket. Sand was drilled into my scalp. The entire beach population fled like wild banshees running for our lives.

Ah, memories. John Muir's quote (above) captures Nature's majesty for me. Having lived in the SF Bay area for over eight years, I walked in the redwood forests of Muir Woods many times. It is a cathedral of a place where I always felt a communion with this man's spirit. John Muir founded The Sierra Club and was responsible for preserving large nature areas and western forests. He petitioned Congress for the National Parks Bill (which passed in 1899), establishing both Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks. Read more about John Muir here (including a visit with Ralph Waldo Emerson in 1871). I remain eternally grateful for his gift of preservation of our earthly wilderness lands as well as his expression of beauty, passion, and love in his writing.

-Raphaella Vaisseau