On Serendipity

I know, frequently I write about nature.  It's my "job!"  But I am always amazed at my feelings when I have what I call a "nature moment."   For instance, I have been walking through a park for about a year, now, and only because of my friends Scott and Ann, have I noticed several Northern White Pines.  I supposed I focus on the dogs and birds when I walk.  Unusual for a forester.  I love the stand of trees that I walk through to get to the creek: Douglas fir, Cedar, Hemlock.  But now I am enriched, seeing even more.

Yesterday morning, while Sage and I were running, I heard what I first thought was a shorebird.  We were running along the bulkhead just north of the boat launch at Shilshole.  Then, I thought the sound was a waterfowl, although I could not place the call.  Finally we stopped because if it was a waterfowl,  it sounded like it was going underwater.  I saw two large masses just off the bulkhead.  Of course, I pictured Sea lion.  But I have never heard a Sea lion vocalization like that.  Sage cocked her head from one side to the other.  I suspect if I'd let her, she might have picked her way down around the bulkhead rocks to see if it was Max, her Flat-coated retriever mix who swims at the boat launch in the mornings.  But I kept her close.  

We watched for a few more minutes, then started our plodding.  The two things paralleled us until we turned inland.  

When I got home, I looked up Orca and gray whale seasons and vocalizations.  We saw, in the pitch black, two Orcas.   As I listened to the recordings, I recalled hearing the water coming out of the blow holes and the sound that I thought was a drowning waterfowl, was indeed, an Orca. 

It's the amazing thing about life.  When the mist parts just a little and you see the Tetons, or friends show you White Pine in Seattle, or two Orcas come close to shore at 5:30 AM.  Serendipity.

As I was listening to the whale vocalizations, Murphy came into my study and cocked her head, just like Sage.  The wild spoke to her, too.

Murphy's day.