40.

Whales

I am worried about the whales. At first I was thrilled, moved even, by the thought of humpback whales in my hometown. From my place in the desert I read about the whales, personifying and romanticizing their journey, even reveling in their refusal to follow the siren song back out to sea. Today they have moved to the Bay Area, another place I have called home, and are circling under the Benicia Bridge where we used to send pennies sailing out of car windows for good luck. Mom and dad started the tradition when they were in college and now two whales are circling above decades of pennies, unwilling to swim westward.

But it isn’t romantic. Their skin is drying out and sloughing off—too much fresh water in the pores. And people are lining the shores, cell phone cameras at the ready, applauding any slight movement. As much as I want there to be luck and magic in the story of whales in the river, mostly I see two animals who have become uncomfortable in their own skin.