On Tuesday, Aly and I experienced some magical moments on the homestead.
Up until today, we’ve had heavy rain and very calm weather, creating a lot of fog. The water, the woods, and even the air around the cabin have been misty for days. On Tuesday morning, something changed, if only briefly.
The fog began lifting. At first, we saw the Mountain With No Name for the first time in several days. Then the sky overhead cleared, and the fog rose and dissipated. Within about 10 minutes, the only mist near us came from the rapidly-evaporating moisture on the rocks. The sun felt hot on our heads. We had planned a task inside, but set it aside to enjoy the sun for a while. That proved wise, as the sky turned overcast again. Within a half hour or so, the wetter, foggy weather had returned as if it had never left.
After we’d gone inside, Aly told me of a dream she’d had in the night. She dreamed that a huge pod of killer whales had passed the homestead, traveling shoulder to shoulder in a huge pod.
A short time later—certainly less than 15 minutes—I heard a particularly exciting noise outside: the short, sharp exhalations of killer whales. I turned to Aly and said, “I think your dream is about to come true!”
We ran outside to see four whales passing within 10 yards of our beach rocks. They appeared to be three adult females and a young calf, all traveling in a tight line, shoulder to shoulder.
We watched them blow and dive in quick succession past the property, then they dove one last time and disappeared. We never saw them come back up.
This often happens with whales, but their sudden, brief appearance before vanishing seemed, well . . . like a dream.
Some say that the world is full of magic, if one only knows where to look. For us, that search begins here at home.