Looking for a Miracle

Photo shared by Bay Cetology

I'm looking for a miracle.

I don't think we'll get a big one, any time soon: that the world will put down its guns and bombs, humanity will be woke, and leaders rendered sane, coming together to slow the climate crisis.

I'll settle for a smaller one: that an orphaned baby orca will be reunited with her pod in time to save her life; that lost dogs will be returned home; and abused animals will be rescued and, finally, learn what being loved is.

The Big Picture is daunting, with a planet in freefall. Leaders grapple over toxic power, and turn a blind eye to corporate destruction of the natural world, and the suffering of human and non-human beings in the name of the great god Money.

I'm grateful for the Smaller View: the blue sky I have been in love with all my life: a Sky-Show every minute! The eternal waves rolling in, as they always have and always will, on the shore and forever in  my heart.

My joy is the beauty all around: sunflowers and sea stars, poems, books, candles, and soft fuzzy blankets; newborn foals and mother ducks, and the warm, smiling eyes of well-loved dogs.

Under the great bowl of sky, already so many miracles: small as a tiny cell inside our amazing bodies; vast as the universe with its many galaxies: sun, moon, planets, stars in their mystical orbits.

Under this same sky may there come, one day, a miracle: a thousand years of peace, when the bombs cease and people turn to helping and feeding each other; bending together to pick up the rubble, using the fallen bricks to lay the foundation for a better tomorrow.

While we wait, please, Universe and Whoever is Listening, help one small helpless whale reunite with her grandma. That will be miracle enough for me.

***

On March 23rd, Spong, a mother orca, pregnant at the time, was beached in a small lagoon near Zeballos, when the tide went out suddenly and left her stranded. Her two year old calf was with her, calling to her mom as she thrashed and tried, with the assistance of First Nations and other villagers, to right herself. Sadly, she was on her side when the tide rushed in, and she drowned, despite everyone's best efforts. All this time, the orphaned whale the natives named kʷiisaḥiʔis (Brave Little Hunter) has been circling the lagoon where her mother last was.

 

Researchers and First Nations have been trying to encourage her out of the lagoon but the difficulty is the narrow opening only has enough depth half an hour a day for this to happen and the baby can't manage it. They talk of lifting her out in a sling by helicopter, and reuniting her with her pod, where she has a grandmother. But they seem to be waiting till that is the only option, given the trauma. My maternal instincts say they are waiting too long. Once she is in distress everything will be harder for her. She tried to eat a bird last Saturday so she is hungry and is too small to hunt a seal which is her normal diet.

One small whale is haunting my thoughts and will until she is safe. It will be a double tragedy if she does not survive. Orcas are an endangered species, only 73 of them left here on the coast. On April 2, her pod was located. Time is of the essence. I hold my breath until the brave little hunter is with her grandma.

for Mary's prompt at What's Going On: Miracles