I wish you could see the dolphins today. It’s mostly the fins that I saw, with a bit of their body, but the ones I saw today were different from what I’d seen before.
Two dolphins were slowly cruising along the ocean, swimming so calmly as if it didn’t matter where the destination was and when they were supposed to arrive. In time, the two came up and dived down the water with such composure, such harmony, as if they were dancing to a rhythm only they could hear, as if it were their wedding and they were engaged in a tango and it didn’t matter that everyone was staring at them. ‘They are in love,’ I thought. ‘Of course it’s love. What else could make two creatures so synchronized, so peaceful, so delighted?’
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” asked a woman my age who had also been following the dolphins along the shore.
“I have not!” I said. “I usually see dolphins in a group and they swim much faster than this, farther from the shore and not that harmonized.”
“I think they were in labour and were going to have their babies somewhere, sometimes soon,” she said.
I laughed, surprised at her interpretation of the situation. “I thought they were in love and were savouring their moments together,” I said. Maybe they were reunited after having been apart for what must have felt as long as eternity for them.
“But we are only projecting of course.” I smiled and walked away, looked for the dolphins but couldn’t find the couples anymore. I only saw a single one quickly swimming away. ‘Go and find your love and don’t let her go!’ I wanted to scream after him.