Florida beaches were as beautiful as ever this weekend with one major glitch.
The pristine expanse of the Florida coastline was dotted with tractors and back hoes. They were moving sand and laying miles of booms designed to stop the approaching oil spill that moved within seven miles of Pensacola.
The huge disaster, (compliments of BP and the EPA and whom ever else wasn’t taking care of business), threatens the entire coast of the Southeast and livelihoods of millions of people.
We were vacationing with friends who have homes at Seascape and Seaside, just east of Destin. The beaches were eerily quiet as tourists canceled reservations in response to the news that the oil spill was moving in.
Other determined souls, like us, spent as many hours as possible on the waterfront, fearing the beaches could be closed at any minute. I spent time gazing at the waves as they washed in and prayed that some miracle would prevent the destruction of any more wildlife, the beautiful white sand beaches, and our already ailing economy.
Then I an spotted oil soaked bird and wondered “What has mankind done to our oceans and our environment?” We should be forced to change our name to “manmean.”
We dined on oysters, shrimp and grilled fish knowing that the delicacies may not be available much longer – at least the ones from the Gulf of Mexico.
This was a view from my bedroom at Seaside this morning as the crews moved in and blocked the view. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I considered the impact of this debacle.