Dear Long-Distance Swimmer,

It has been too many days since I have posted here.... Your mother and I have been traveling in California seeing your great-grandparents and hearing more about the family history.

And in one morning trip, we went to a harbor near Newport Beach where we set out on a whale watching trip.

Along the way, we encountered a school of what they call "common dolphins". They call them common dolphins, as opposed to the bottlenosed dolphin or the striped dolphin or the pantropical spotted dolphin or the Atlantic hump-backed dolphin, because they are so numerous.

This struck me as very lazy. Dolphins, staring up at us from their watery world, would be completely right to call us "common humans" -- but we would very likely be indignant that they are missing some unique quality of us. The chestnut-haired human, the likely-to-fall-asleep-during-movies human, the anxious human...

Riding at the front of this boat was a netting that stretched out between the hulls of the catamaran (each of which was fashioned with "viewing pods" to view dolphins underwater... although a touch too-claustrophobic for your mother (though I did remind her that your own non-viewing pod right now may feel a bit claustrophobic at times.)) From here, your mother was able to capture this shot of a mother and child just five feet away from her, riding together swiftly along the top of the water in front of the boat.

The entire way, the baby kept pace with the mother. Or was it vice versa? In any event, it made me think of you swimming alongside your own mother right now.