RSS FeedApr 14 2009
The Selkies Come A’calling
I was having a rather rough day yesterday which made what happened all that much more wonderful. On top of my plumbing woes, things were piling up at work. And then there was the small matter of getting caught in hail four times yesterday.
Moreover, all this was in the wake of having to unpack the Mini and carry all my stuff down the ramps in the rain on Sunday.
I don’t care if real Portlanders don’t carry umbrellas. I’m carrying one with me everywhere I go from now on, dang it. I haven’t been this soggy and pelted by the elements in the last twenty years.
So, needless to say, I was rather cranky as I was returning down the ramps to my house after hail storm #4 of the day. In the midst of feeling very sorry for myself, however, I noticed something odd floating in the river directly in front of my house. It was slick, dark, and executing little joyful pirouettes. I would have thought it was just a random log drifting down the river but the pattern it was tracing in the water made no sense if it was just debris. There was too much a sense of humor about the whole thing.
So I squinted and hurried down the dock. Just as I got within ten feet of the mysterious black thing in the water, a whiskered head popped to the surface and stared directly at me with liquid eyes. Both me and the whiskered animal did a comic double-take, and then, with a flick of a tail and a splash, it was gone.
My first reaction was: “THAT’S THE BIGGEST OTTER I’VE EVER SEEN!”
I have to confess that what it actually looked like to me was a seal. But there was no conceivable way a seal could be paddling around outside my house… could there?
Turns out, it very well could.
I ran into my neighbor Mike a hour later and asked him about what I’d seen… Mike didn’t even bat an eye under his baseball cap. “Oh yeah. There are seals all over the place right now. They like to follow the salmon up river.” And with that matter-of-fact explanation he ambled down the dock as though we’d just had a conversation as inconsequential as discussing the fact it was raining again in Portland.
Mike has obviously been here a lot longer than me.
My reaction went something a little more like the following: “HOLY FREAK! I JUST SAW A SEAL! RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE! A SEAL!!!!”
I’m not sure when the novelty of a seal meandering five feet in front of my house might wear off. I’m not sure it ever will, and that’s perfectly fine with me.
Upon hearing the story on Twitter, the local fantasy author Kim Antieau said it was just the selkies way of welcoming me to the neighborhood. I love that.
And sure enough, one quick visit from the selkies wiped away an enormous amount of frustration from the day, and I’m back to remembering why I’m here. And that I’m right where I’m supposed to be, exploding toilets, bat colonies and all.
I was having a rather rough day yesterday which made what happened all that much more wonderful. On top of my plumbing woes, things were piling up at work. And then there was the small matter of getting caught in hail four times yesterday.
Moreover, all this was in the wake of having to unpack the Mini and carry all my stuff down the ramps in the rain on Sunday.
I don’t care if real Portlanders don’t carry umbrellas. I’m carrying one with me everywhere I go from now on, dang it. I haven’t been this soggy and pelted by the elements in the last twenty years.
So, needless to say, I was rather cranky as I was returning down the ramps to my house after hail storm #4 of the day. In the midst of feeling very sorry for myself, however, I noticed something odd floating in the river directly in front of my house. It was slick, dark, and executing little joyful pirouettes. I would have thought it was just a random log drifting down the river but the pattern it was tracing in the water made no sense if it was just debris. There was too much a sense of humor about the whole thing.
So I squinted and hurried down the dock. Just as I got within ten feet of the mysterious black thing in the water, a whiskered head popped to the surface and stared directly at me with liquid eyes. Both me and the whiskered animal did a comic double-take, and then, with a flick of a tail and a splash, it was gone.
My first reaction was: “THAT’S THE BIGGEST OTTER I’VE EVER SEEN!”
I have to confess that what it actually looked like to me was a seal. But there was no conceivable way a seal could be paddling around outside my house… could there?
Turns out, it very well could.
I ran into my neighbor Mike a hour later and asked him about what I’d seen… Mike didn’t even bat an eye under his baseball cap. “Oh yeah. There are seals all over the place right now. They like to follow the salmon up river.” And with that matter-of-fact explanation he ambled down the dock as though we’d just had a conversation as inconsequential as discussing the fact it was raining again in Portland.
Mike has obviously been here a lot longer than me.
My reaction went something a little more like the following: “HOLY FREAK! I JUST SAW A SEAL! RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE! A SEAL!!!!”
I’m not sure when the novelty of a seal meandering five feet in front of my house might wear off. I’m not sure it ever will, and that’s perfectly fine with me.
Upon hearing the story on Twitter, the local fantasy author Kim Antieau said it was just the selkies way of welcoming me to the neighborhood. I love that.
And sure enough, one quick visit from the selkies wiped away an enormous amount of frustration from the day, and I’m back to remembering why I’m here. And that I’m right where I’m supposed to be, exploding toilets, bat colonies and all.
Despite all the challenges, your home and surrounding area sound beautiful. I’d love to wake up every morning and see little critters swimming in front of my house. I’m glad the seal sighting brightened up your day.
Hi,
I just wanted to tell you that I have a seal that keeps on eye on me in front of my house too. My father passed away this year, plus I moved to a new place, beautiful, but looking for work in a new town, in a depression. I have had some difficult days, but one I was really at loss, and my seal – who I call “Flipper” watched me for like 12 hours straight. It is very comforting to have animals care for you. I think it is an honor. I hope you enjoy your seal as much as I enjoy Flipper.
Cheers,
Laurie Lyon