Note: This is a true story
Starfish were the last thing on my mind as I began my beach walk. My footsteps made no sound on the fog-shrouded beach. I searched the sand for telltale signs of tracks leading out of the water towards the sand dunes. The ones I wanted to see are flat in the middle with indentations on the sides- tracks a female loggerhead turtle makes when she drags herself out the water ever so slowly.
An ancient song heard only by sea turtles makes her leave the buoyant security of water and go ashore to lay eggs. But this morning the beach is bare. I am disappointed. My volunteer job here in Fernandina Beach is to walk the beach three times a week, looking for tracks, then call the Turtle Patrol folks if I find them. They will mark the nests and try to ensure the baby turtles make it safely down to the water.
Three times a week I walk a mile, turn around, go back one mile to my car, head home, shower, change and go to work as a newspaper reporter. I love walking the beach to start the day, even on a fog-shrouded morning. This morning it feels like I’ve walked a mile but I can’t see my usual landmarks.
Starfish have a lesson for me
Then I look down one last time and there they are. Hundreds of baby starfish, their little arms silently waving in the air, lie stranded above the tide line. It is a shocking surprise for an early morning walker.
I bend over, pick up several small starfish and throw them into the water. This goes on and on until finally my arms give up and refuse to work. I sink down on my knees, crying.
“I can’t save you all,” I sob. Their little arms wave in the air, pleading. To be left stranded on the sand is sure death when the sun rises. But there are hundreds of them and only one of me.
Finally, I stand up, two big indentations in the sand where I knelt. I turn away and begin slowly walking back to my car, my eyes fogged with tears. By the time I reached for the car door handle, I’d learned something about myself and made a decision.
As a new reporter, a career I started in my 40s, I was trying to save them all. All the lost and almost lost causes – the people who had no homes, the children who had no voice, the animals put to death because of irresponsible owners. Oh yes, I wanted to save them all.
But I couldn’t. The fact is each one of us is gifted with a certain amount of energy. We need to make good choices with this gift, learn to say “no” as well as “yes” and use that energy wisely so it is effective. And we need to increase energy by partnering with others.
The decision? I knew I’d be leaving Fernandina Beach, a place I deeply loved, because I needed to focus on being an environmental reporter and this was not a possibility with the general assignment job I currently had.
Starfish experience leads to a new job
Three months after the starfish experience I accepted a job at another paper, the Ocala Star Banner, and within two years did a stint as an environmental reporter. Did I forget the starfish? Never.
About a year later I heard the often-told tale, fable or real story (who knows?), of a man who walks on a beach, sees lots of stranded starfish and a small boy who is throwing one back in the water. The man asks what difference that will make and the boy answers “It makes a difference to the one I threw back.”
Sometimes an everyday experience like walking on a beach can be life changing. This was one of those times. I’m still trying to make good use of the gift of energy. Every day I do know you can’t save them all but you can make a huge difference for a few. Go for it.
©2008 Lucy Beebe Tobias. All rights reserved. Lucy is a Florida environmental writer living in Ocala.
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