I laid in the sun watching the sea lions sunbathe on the fishermans wharf.  After their mass exodus to the north last fall, they have begun to return. Fat glistening bodies, thick skinned and golden, tangles of coarse hair sticking out various places (reminding me of the one hair that grows on my left ribcage that is totally ridiculous) barking like dogs and showing tusks before lumbering into the cold, shark infested water and swimming away.

It's an isolating sensation to feel so connected to another animal, to a magical moment, only to watch it slip away into another world you will never inhabit.  (Not for fear or a lack of desire, but because I lack flippers and blubber).