REALITY CHECK!

Admittedly, I've been having quite a bit of an existential crisis these past few days - hence my absence from posting. I decided yesterday that I needed to get back on that proverbial horse if I wanted to get past this all consuming apathy and inertia. So to my favorite Gator Hole I went after supper for sunset, prepared to do battle with my self inflicted demons. I got off to a slow start, seemingly submerged in a quagmire of quicksand of my own thoughts when I spotted my quarry cautiously approaching. This Alligator and I have had so many one sided conversations. I have drawn strength and wisdom from his silent and patient ancient presence. Three days ago, however, I didn't really know if I ever wanted to see him again. I am cautiously optimistic that I have gotten past these emotions that don't even encumber his cold blooded Reptilian Brain, fueled solely by his instincts to survive. No judgment, no love, nor any other emotion, just raw reaction that has served his kind for time eternal. I left him with an uneasy peace in my own over thinking brain, one of my favorite Neil Young songs covered by Dave Matthews and Jason Isbell playing on the radio, Cortez the Killer. It satisfied my soul, so appropriate with the hauntingly beautiful and yet disturbing tune and words, in harmony and yet not. Such is life. It doesn't always fit our plan... If we want to exist we have to learn to take the good along with the bad. We have to balance on that tightrope and enjoy the dance - no matter the rhythm.... or the rhyme...

The fateful evening of June 29th started with the promise of a Diva Pink sunset, the soft pastel hues beginning to reflect off Popeye's glistening hide. I barely had time to get a couple of shots before his attention was diverted from me to something off in right field.

As the colors of the sunset began intensifying, my subject made that all too familiar turn signifying that he had interests that were drawing him away from my lens. I pleaded with him not to leave me. Not now Popeye! I just got here Buddy and those Pinks are getting deeper and darker! Yes, I have conversations with this Alligator just like I do with my dogs. Sometimes he stops and listens. Not that fateful night. He had intentions other than curiosity ruling his head...

I scanned the vicinity to see what his attention was locked and loaded on and for a brief second I was elated to see another Alligator head bobbing where Little Olive normally takes her station before cautiously entering this dragon king's domain. To my and that other Gator's horror, Popeye torpedoed himself in its direction, quickly submerging, readying himself for attack. Was this Olive? I don't know. I may never know. All I know is that that smaller Gator was swimming for its life but Popeye's massive size and strength overpowered it. Some distance away I heard a sickening splash and knew the outcome before I saw it. I watched them struggle for an indeterminate time. I was transfixed, unable to look away, viewing the unimaginable. Yes, I know Alligators are cannibalistic. Yes, I know Big Bulls fiercely defend their territory but I wasn't prepared to witness the scene unfolding before my very eyes...

I struggled with whether or not to post any of the short bursts of video I captured that night or not. This incident affected me so profoundly that in order to heal, I felt I should to get past it. Again, was this my Olive? That question keeps replaying in my mind, like the needle of a phonograph skipping over dust, unable to reset and continue without some sort of intervention. This is my intervention for my own self, sharing this story of one Alligator who lost its life that night. In the dying of the light, with a raucous orchestra of cicadas accompanying, I heard a 7 footer emit that all too familiar electronic cry that hatchlings make calling for their Mama. It was several octaves lower and much weaker but unmistakably a plaintively cry for help as it disappeared into that vast abyss of oblivion that we humans call death...