Saturday. I woke up with all kinds of projects and housework clamoring for my attention. I considered being responsible. I considered how inferior weekends as an adult are to weekends as a child. I considered that there just have to be times to be irresponsible or else what is the point of all this? Several minutes later I was out the door, on my bike, and headed to the ocean.

I love riding to the beach. I make the trek with some regularity, but it still feels novel and exciting each time. I continue to be in a state of disbelief that I actually live somewhere that I can ride my bike to the beach. How unbelievably lucky and amazing!

I lock up my bike at the rack and follow the boardwalk out onto the sand. I usually look left for an opening amongst the umbrellas and gathered families, but today there appears to be fewer people to my right and I head in that direction. The beach sits slightly above the shoreline. Even though you can see the ocean right away, it takes a slow trek through the sand before you can see the waves crashing. I make my way towards the water. As soon as I have a full view of the ocean, I stop, transfixed, taking it all in. I see that the waves are big today. Beautiful crests create a long steady curl as the water gradually falls forward onto itself. Perfect waves for surfing or so I imagine. Almost immediately I catch a glimpse of something at the top of a wave that I can’t quite identify. My mind immediately suggests, “Shark???” And I do my best to focus my eyes in on what I saw to get more information. 

In all of my years swimming in the ocean around Florida, I’ve never seen a shark. (Thank God!) I’ve seen them while looking out the airplane window as I’ve flown out of Miami. They’re definitely out there. But Miami and its crystal blue waters are three hundred miles south of here. I’m not really sure that anecdote fits in this moment as I puzzle over what I’ve seen. Excited that today might be the very first time I see a shark. Excited because today I am not in that water. 

My eyes are laser focussed. 
The next wave falls and my heart opens wide. 
It’s not a shark. It’s a dolphin! 
Another wave crests. 
It’s a pod of dolphins! 
Oh my goodness! I marvel at them. No longer showing just a hint of a fin, they are moving gracefully through the waves before me. I imagine how wonderful it must be to be able to navigate the waves as they do. The rise and fall of their motion weaving perfectly above and below the surface. They exude merriment and playfulness. It perfectly matches the overwhelming joy I feel in getting to share this beautiful moment with them. 

A native Floridian, I have never seen dolphins swimming in the Atlantic. I have been fortunate to see them on the Gulf Coast of Florida, but I have probably only seen wild dolphins slightly more than a handful of times. In my experience, it is something quite rare. Every time is magical and incredibly special. Today feels even more so. To see them in the ocean, this ocean that I have been to countless times, it’s a bit like discovering a unicorn lives out in the woods behind your house. It’s unbelievable! They were out there all this time and I had no idea. Amazing. 

And just like that, they are gone. I watch the waves rise and fall. I scan the horizon. They have disappeared. The only magic and bliss of their presence is that which remains in my heart. If I had arrived at this spot on the sand one minute later, I would have missed them. If I had gone to the left, as usual, I would never have seen them. If I had been responsible this Saturday morning, I would never have been able to say that I have now seen dolphins swimming in the Atlantic.