Beach goers wade in The Gulf of Mexico at Indian Rocks Beach, Florida, Friday, June 18, 2010. Indian Rocks Beach, along with much of the West coast of Florida, is currently unaffected by the Deep Horizon oil spill which has devastated much of the Northern gulf coast.

Like many residents of The United States who haven’t been living under a rock for the past 60 days or so, I’ve been keeping up with the tragic oil spill that has plagued The Gulf of Mexico and many of its shoreline communities. And, like many residents who don’t live near the affected areas, the news stories have simply been unfortunate blips on my daily radar. While disappointing and unfortunate, the oil spill doesn’t affect me directly way up here in the Chicago area. I can go about my normal routine unaffected, and the oil spill is relegated to casual mentions over dinner, if that.

It wasn’t until I took a recent week-long family vacation to Indian Rocks Beach, Florida, staying in a rented condominium directly on the shore of The Gulf of Mexico, that the oil spill solidified a personal connection with me. Throughout my time spent in Florida, I was reminded of (and got to experience once again) the true beauty of this part of the country. The pristine white sand beaches, native plant life, and abundant shore birds (still unaffected by the spill in this part of Florida, for now) are rivaled only in beauty by other natural spectacles, like the vibrant sunsets and furiously beautiful lightning shows.

One only has to casually glance at The Gulf of Mexico for more than a passing moment to see first hand marine life many of us from the Chicago area only saw in our biology books, such as dolphins, manatees, sea turtles, and pelicans. All of these animals exist in and depend upon the fragile ecosystem now tipped on-end by the largest environmental disaster in our country’s history.

Anyone who knows me realizes that I’m far from a “tree-hugger” or, for that matter, a political analyst. I joke about how I’m “going green” with my new LED Litepanels I use now on video shoots (energy savings and the environment were the last reasons why I bought them), and I barely know enough about politics to tell you whether I lean to the right or left. What I do know, however, is that the oil spill, and what seemingly little is being done to stop it in the big picture, infuriates me. The lack of efforts from others and the massive scale of the problem also leaves me feeling helpless.

Without the oil spill panacea, I can only sit back and wish our country would put some of that war budget being used up over in Iraq and Afghanistan towards helping clean up and preserving what is here and ours. After all, I don’t see my next vacation destination including nature walks in Kandahar.

Kevin Schaffer, 11, and his brother Paul, 14, of Whitehouse, Ohio, look over a sand castle they constructed on the shores of The Gulf of Mexico at Indian Rocks Beach, Florida, early Thursday, June 17, 2010.

On my last night on Indian Rocks Beach in Florida, my cousins and I took a mile or so walk down the gulf shore, and got to take in one of the most beautiful sunsets of the entire trip. I couldn’t help but feel somber as the warm, gentle waves curled around my legs as I waded in the surf. Somber, much like a bad prognosis about a relative’s health from a doctor, knowing that this beautiful part of the country might grow very ill sometime very soon. I could have been enjoying the last good times myself or anyone will have on that beach for the next 15-20 years, at minimum.

In the end, without a science degree or coffers of money, I can only hope that the prognosis for further disaster is wrong. I can only hope as much of the Florida coast unaffected by the spill now will remain that way, and that the areas already affected will come back to life as soon as possible. If the worst does indeed come to fruition, I’m glad I got to experience paradise unscathed one last time.

Lightning flashes over The Gulf of Mexico as seen from Indian Rocks Beach, Florida, Friday, June 18, 2010.