The Seal on the Rocks

Journal

I run the same beach every morning because the ocean doesn't ask me how I'm doing.

In April a harbor seal started hauling out on the same black rock.

The fog was still in.

We looked at each other like neighbors who don't speak.

I started bringing nothing. No food. Just the looking.

That was enough.

Just looking.

She let me get a little closer each week.

The tide came in around our silence.

I stopped checking the time.

Yesterday she sneezed and I laughed out loud.

I didn't feel lonely on that beach. I felt seen.

I said thank you, though she couldn't hear it.

A tourist asked if I was photographing the seal.

I said no. I was just saying good morning.

When she slipped back into the water I didn't feel left.

I felt the day start.