Jade Cove, Big Sur, California
Imagine being a young teen girl, alone, having only known the oppressive glare of the desert sun. Walking down a grassy trail from the 1, hearing barking seals in the distance. Cool marine layer still offshore, but the first fingers of mist beginning to raise goosebumps. Heavy backpack. Taking the stairs down to this tiny little cove at sunset.
You get down to the beach, and it's nearly high tide. The water is lapping nearly at your feet. And seals are laying out in the water and on the rocky shore.
You sit on a rock just inches from the water. An enormous, glossy, sharp toothed, phallic snouted bull elephant seal must see you as no threat, because he's close enough to touch. There are what look to be countless mamas and babies too.
Some are in the breakwater, and others up on the rocks, all looking curiously at you, like a royal court, some enthroned, others as servants to the sovereign, wondering about this new intrigue. And accepting the young girl as one of their own, as orange gives way to purple gives way to black.
A great harem singing to you as the milky way makes her appearance.
You take out your journal, and write poetry in the moonlight, serenaded by the seals.
It was one of the most beautiful experiences in my young life. And I can't find any photos on the internet that come close to reflecting the beauty of that night.
