52:52 Dear Gray Whale
I know you’re there. And that knowing takes my heart into your world. An infinity of water. The sacred substance of life. I try to imagine what it’s like, gliding smoothly beneath the surface, seeing creatures and landscapes that are like dreams made real. Above, the seagulls ride the wind and briefly the clouds permit a dappling of sunlight. Below, you travel through a blue forest of liquid light beams.
Right now, around 20,000 of you are traveling from Alaska all the way down to Mexico, right along my coast. I know you’re there. I’ve looked and I’ve waited - in vain. I have yet to take a single picture of you. But I’ve seen you on several occasions over the years, feeding close to shore, a glistening black mountain between the waves, spraying a fountain of mist! What a thrill! I remember each instance vividly. Even though we’ve never had a direct encounter, I felt touched by you, I felt I knew something about you, that you are gentle. And I felt you know secrets about the true nature of love.
Your mouth may be one of the biggest on the planet, but it’s not you who depletes the ocean. It is us. Driven by an appetite unhinged from nature, we eat off the plates of those yet to be born. Not only our own generations, but yours and everybody’s. I never want to look out over this ocean and know you’re not there anymore. Thankfully, we stopped just short of killing you all and you have made a promising recovery. We can choose to move away from the cancerous idea of perpetual growth and towards a new appreciation of balance. Like the dancer who can hold her center, the pursuit of balance results in much grace and beauty.
Be always there, gliding smoothly.
Claudia
52:52 Dear Gray Whale
I know you’re there. And that knowing takes my heart into your world. An infinity of water. The sacred substance of life. I try to imagine what it’s like, gliding smoothly beneath the surface, seeing creatures and landscapes that are like dreams made real. Above, the seagulls ride the wind and briefly the clouds permit a dappling of sunlight. Below, you travel through a blue forest of liquid light beams.
Right now, around 20,000 of you are traveling from Alaska all the way down to Mexico, right along my coast. I know you’re there. I’ve looked and I’ve waited - in vain. I have yet to take a single picture of you. But I’ve seen you on several occasions over the years, feeding close to shore, a glistening black mountain between the waves, spraying a fountain of mist! What a thrill! I remember each instance vividly. Even though we’ve never had a direct encounter, I felt touched by you, I felt I knew something about you, that you are gentle. And I felt you know secrets about the true nature of love.
Your mouth may be one of the biggest on the planet, but it’s not you who depletes the ocean. It is us. Driven by an appetite unhinged from nature, we eat off the plates of those yet to be born. Not only our own generations, but yours and everybody’s. I never want to look out over this ocean and know you’re not there anymore. Thankfully, we stopped just short of killing you all and you have made a promising recovery. We can choose to move away from the cancerous idea of perpetual growth and towards a new appreciation of balance. Like the dancer who can hold her center, the pursuit of balance results in much grace and beauty.
Be always there, gliding smoothly.
Claudia