The sea lions did not get the memo.
First, I have to include some videos to provide the right soundtrack for my post.
This morning I was working at my home office when I heard the sea lions for the first time this spring. I heard them while inside my house. For real, they are that loud. So, still in my jammies, I threw on some boots and a coat and headed the five miles to the river. I enjoy the sea lions so much. Their barking and growling makes me giggle with delight.
In these days when everyone we hear from is telling us not to get close to anyone, it was especially delightful to see this community heaped upon one another and noisily napping.
As usual, my delight at being at the marina, next to busy shipping lanes, across from the Port of Longview, overtook me. I couldn’t resist photos of the working machinery of my little bit of industry here on the Columbia River, the state border between Washington (across the river – currently in a state of lockdown greater than us) and Oregon (probably only a day or two behind Washington’s lockdowns).
But I can only be distracted for a few minutes, because the noise is incessant. Bark! Bark! Bark! They are wonderful to watch. Huge and lumbering and fierce and threatening and passive and sleepy. I crept a few steps closer. A few more steps down the ramp (you can see it in the photo above) toward them. I stopped about 25 feet away.
Ahh, what a splendid morning. My breath was frosty out there in the early spring morning, before the sun had a chance to warm anything up. In fact, in the videos you can see the breath steaming up from the closest sea lion. I’ll bet those blubbery lovelies were plenty warm. Probably full of fish and happy too. These critters aren’t worrying about viruses or a future financial crash or how to occupy the kids while working at home or whether Grandma’s lungs are strong enough to get her through. They are fighting for a good nap spot, and soaking up the first sunshine of the day. Totally in the moment.