Thursday, September 28, 2006

Edwin and dolphins ~~




As a teenager in Chicago, he swam the lake there, and was a damn good swimmer. During high school, he and his mother went to live in Lakeland, Florida, and missing serious swimming, he'd get her to drive him and a friend over to the Gulf so that he could *really* swim. This particular day, they'd swam very far out and it was getting late when he realized how far out they were, perhaps too far, and he turned, calling to his friend to do so, too. As he turned he caught a glimpse in the corner of his eye of a huge fin. When he looked again it was gone, but his adrenaline was pumping! He tried to swim without splashing, trying not to attract that fin. . . . Suddenly he realized that he and his friend were surrounded by a pod of dolphins: at least four and maybe as many as six or eight. One in particular swam shoulder to shoulder with him, watching him with that big dolphin eye. When they got near enough in to the beach to see the people, and realized the tide was now out and they could probably walk the rest of the way in, "his" dolphin seemed to say to him: I've seen you, now you can look at me! Dived, rose, did a tail stand just in front of him, then dove again, and was gone. On shore, he wanted to say to his waiting Mother: Mom! They breath air. Just like us! That illumination stayed with him his whole life. Over the years, he went to several swim with the dolphins events, and felt that initial vision strengthened: we are one. We are ALL one. . . .

Most of his life he's worn a dolphin ring. The last, a small silver one, a single dolphin wound around his finger. It was not in the things the hospital returned. Nor in his effects from the hotel. He'd lost it earlier this spring and I'd found it caught in the rug near the bed (and a space I'd already vacuumed a couple of times); he'd been relieved to have it back.

We arrived a day early in San Diego for DeanFest this summer, and decided to go to Sea World to see the dolphins. We did (and the orcas, too). We sat in the splash zone (second row) and got well and goodly soaked. (Have a newly navy set of underwear, lol!). It was a beautiful day, and he got a small dolphin keyring, and I got a swims with dolphins tote bag.

Yesterday, still mourning the loss of the small silver ring, as I straightened, I opened a marble box, and there was a large gold dolphin ring. I'm wearing it now, as I type.

About the picture above: it's pretty much the tail stand he described. After looking through hundred of dolphin pictures, it was the *only* one I found. I'm thinking that tail stand may not be all that usual a thing for dolphins to do. . . .

BTW, click the title for a song we both loved, and gave us a great deal of pleasure. . . .

Edwin says to tell you: So long, and thanks for all the fish!

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful story, puddle, and I'm so happy you found the gold dolphin ring. Maybe the silver one will turn up too. Susan swam with the dolphins (well, actually just one) in Florida and couldn't get over telling me how that eye watched her.

Mary

Anonymous said...

What a fascinating guy. I'm delighted to get to know him through the stories you tell. Thank you for sharing them.
Really.

cC

Anonymous said...

Great story. It takes a beautiful person to feel such a connection with animals. The dolphin rings add to the smiles. Thanks for sharing.

Dave

Shirlee in NC said...

Puddle--when I was in Texas I was lucky enough to be in a small town on Matagorda Bay which is one of the largest bays on the Texas Coast. We had a lot of dolphins and you are exactly right--that is a typical and often used dolphin move. They seem to love us so much and I have often wondered why.
Is there some genetic connection that is not there with other sea creatures? Edwin's story is wonderful.
Thank You