Boca de Soledad and Hull Canal, Baja California Sur
Sleepy eyes awaiting sunrise…excited, anxious. Will the whales still be here?
A cool sun peeking over a distant desert horizon, its warmth to follow.
Choppy waters slapping the Zodiac, sending salty droplets onto our faces, adding to our anticipation.
White plumes rising round us, then dissipating in the breeze. Yes! The whales are here!
Charcoal body rolling up under a puffy breath, slipping under again; a gray whale calf so very close to its mother, touching in security.
An explosive breath follows, as mother seeks oxygen for her muscles and rich mammary tissue.
We follow slowly in our rubber raft; will they seek us out in friendship?
Slow rising of rostrum and mouth as adults and calves spy-hop. Do they see us before pirouetting back into their watery home?
A familiar song drifting across the water from the sandy dunes – a meadowlark, here to escape winter’s wrath.
A massive body on collision course with our tiny boat, only to dive effortlessly and slip silently under us, holding there just long enough to provide our ultimate thrill. The whale is in control.
The secrets of twisting, tortuous mangrove marshes; birds in sanctuary - thousands - resting, digesting, avoiding wily coyote.
Frigatebirds soaring, gliding on wide wings, kleptoparasitizing cormorants, pelicans, gulls, each other.
Egrets, herons, pelicans, ibises, curlews, willets, whimbrels, dowitchers…too abundant to count…awaiting the release of these waters from moon’s gravity. “When the tide is out, the table is set.”
These were the images of our final day in a desert full of life.
Sleepy eyes awaiting sunrise…excited, anxious. Will the whales still be here?
A cool sun peeking over a distant desert horizon, its warmth to follow.
Choppy waters slapping the Zodiac, sending salty droplets onto our faces, adding to our anticipation.
White plumes rising round us, then dissipating in the breeze. Yes! The whales are here!
Charcoal body rolling up under a puffy breath, slipping under again; a gray whale calf so very close to its mother, touching in security.
An explosive breath follows, as mother seeks oxygen for her muscles and rich mammary tissue.
We follow slowly in our rubber raft; will they seek us out in friendship?
Slow rising of rostrum and mouth as adults and calves spy-hop. Do they see us before pirouetting back into their watery home?
A familiar song drifting across the water from the sandy dunes – a meadowlark, here to escape winter’s wrath.
A massive body on collision course with our tiny boat, only to dive effortlessly and slip silently under us, holding there just long enough to provide our ultimate thrill. The whale is in control.
The secrets of twisting, tortuous mangrove marshes; birds in sanctuary - thousands - resting, digesting, avoiding wily coyote.
Frigatebirds soaring, gliding on wide wings, kleptoparasitizing cormorants, pelicans, gulls, each other.
Egrets, herons, pelicans, ibises, curlews, willets, whimbrels, dowitchers…too abundant to count…awaiting the release of these waters from moon’s gravity. “When the tide is out, the table is set.”
These were the images of our final day in a desert full of life.
