Just beautiful. I had a lecturer last year that said science was our way of getting closer to understanding the meaning of life. I loved that. In the spiritual circles I find myself in, initially it felt a juxtaposition to the science I loved but I began to realise that spirituality and science were the same. At 38, I’ve found myself studying for a masters in biological psychology. It has brought me full circle back to the research life I started at 21. I didn’t expect it. I haven’t yet decided whether to jump in but if I do I have been wondering whether there is an opportunity to bring a softness, a magic and a sacred understanding to the research I had before. Perhaps I research because I believe in magic and want others to believe it too. Thank you as ever for such a beautiful piece x
This is such an interesting journey and it's so beautiful to see it coming full circle!! I am so interested in how our connection to the natural world, emotionally (and I suppose by that I do mean spiritually) can spark the desire to work harder to save it relative to just 'knowing' about it. I think there's so much overlap and intertwining and interweaving - the more we know the more there is to wonder at - but it's the deep, voiceless emotional connection that I'm so interested in, and I think it both works in tandem with but goes beyond what we know, factually, about nature. Both are needed, and how both connect to attitudes to the natural world fascinate me! I had no idea biological psychology was a research area but it sounds so interesting.
I am an avid reader of the bard of Orkney - George Mackay Brown, whose writing I was introduced to many years ago by (of all people) Evan Dando from the US college rock band - The Lemonheads. He read some of Brown's poetry on Mark Radcliffe's evening show on Radio One and I was enchanted by it – again magic, in all its myriad human and animal forms.
Brown was a man who, instead of roaming far and wide, stood his ground and documented lives and time as both unfolded around him. His poem, The Year of the Whale describes a bygone island community on the tail end of a poor harvest, energised by the sighting of a school of leviathans offshore, which he describes as “wallowing lumps of thunder and night”.
The poem is about the hunt, not as an end in itself, but as means putting food in cupboards and oil in the lamps. It gives one pause to thought on how our relationship with these animals has changed. News of their sighting that once inspired more primal urges now spreads like wildfire for different reasons. People gather along the coast to witness the wonder of their existence and the spectacle of their migration in the context of all we know about them, and in recognition that there is so much we still do not know.
Wallowing lumps of thunder and night. Oh my gosh. This is a line that will live in my head forever, now. It is fascinating to think how our relationships with nature ebb and flow and metamorphose, according to culture and need and circumstance. I like to think wonder has always been threaded through our relationships with whales though!
I’m so glad I happened upon your writing. Thank you for putting all of this down and giving me a shiver of wonder this morning. As a house-bound (at the moment) carer for two young kids, I really really needed it.
Another beautifully written post about subjects which are very dear to my heart, nature and specifically the sea. Also I love the fact that yiur're dog is called Magnus 🥰
Being a pragmatist, I find the magic in their evolution from aquatic to land based mammal then returning to the oceans, quite the mystery. The magic of their highly tuned hunting practices, that of a predator with a sophisticated brain and well equipped for the tasks. So many seemingly human attributes that are not human at all, but those of the creature itself, and concerns itself with those. When I look into the eyes of a predator, I see the hypnotic gaze of one that would prefer I remain still. The magnificent glory of the cycle of life, complete with the harsh realities we all must bear. That is magic enough for me.
This is where I find my magic, too. In all the mystery of their minds, their perception of the world, their 'umwelt', the cycle of life, the coexistence of all of these magnificent creatures. And I agree, I think we lose some of the wonder of other creatures when we assign/find value only in traits we ourselves have - it perhaps shows the egocentric nature of our fragile human selves! Thank you for sharing where you find your magic.
I wish I could remember whose restack led me to this post, because I would like to thank them. What a beautiful piece. My parents lived, for a little while, on Friday Harbor Island in Puget Sound. Their house was perched on a piece of land not far from a short cliff that fell off into the sound. Most mornings in the summer we were able to see the orcas. We'd be sitting in the kitchen having breakfast when we'd hear the 'pfshaw' sound of them exhaling through their blowholes. We'd abandon coffee and toast and whatever else was on offer to run down to the cliff's edge (often still in pajamas and robes) so we could catch the magic of their passage just below us. And it was magic. No doubt. The encounter unlocked something in me every single time.
Thank you for this! I have a deep love of orcas (I even have a tattoo of one!). this story was so alive and loving. The moment when science and magic blend together is my favorite.
As someone who dreams of one day seeing the mystic beauty of the North Sea, I cannot be grateful enough for being magically connected to such a reality. A perfect reading to start the day.
Just beautiful. I had a lecturer last year that said science was our way of getting closer to understanding the meaning of life. I loved that. In the spiritual circles I find myself in, initially it felt a juxtaposition to the science I loved but I began to realise that spirituality and science were the same. At 38, I’ve found myself studying for a masters in biological psychology. It has brought me full circle back to the research life I started at 21. I didn’t expect it. I haven’t yet decided whether to jump in but if I do I have been wondering whether there is an opportunity to bring a softness, a magic and a sacred understanding to the research I had before. Perhaps I research because I believe in magic and want others to believe it too. Thank you as ever for such a beautiful piece x
This is such an interesting journey and it's so beautiful to see it coming full circle!! I am so interested in how our connection to the natural world, emotionally (and I suppose by that I do mean spiritually) can spark the desire to work harder to save it relative to just 'knowing' about it. I think there's so much overlap and intertwining and interweaving - the more we know the more there is to wonder at - but it's the deep, voiceless emotional connection that I'm so interested in, and I think it both works in tandem with but goes beyond what we know, factually, about nature. Both are needed, and how both connect to attitudes to the natural world fascinate me! I had no idea biological psychology was a research area but it sounds so interesting.
This is so gorgeous, I felt every word (and smelled the salt and caught the whale’s eye). Thanks for sharing your magic.
I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Eden!
I really love these posts, Rebecca. You manage to capture the magic of nature that fuels a scientific pursuit beautifully.
Thank you so much, Alan, that's such a lovely thing to read!
So beautiful, I felt like I was there with the sea wind in my hair!
Yay! So glad you enjoyed it.
I am an avid reader of the bard of Orkney - George Mackay Brown, whose writing I was introduced to many years ago by (of all people) Evan Dando from the US college rock band - The Lemonheads. He read some of Brown's poetry on Mark Radcliffe's evening show on Radio One and I was enchanted by it – again magic, in all its myriad human and animal forms.
Brown was a man who, instead of roaming far and wide, stood his ground and documented lives and time as both unfolded around him. His poem, The Year of the Whale describes a bygone island community on the tail end of a poor harvest, energised by the sighting of a school of leviathans offshore, which he describes as “wallowing lumps of thunder and night”.
The poem is about the hunt, not as an end in itself, but as means putting food in cupboards and oil in the lamps. It gives one pause to thought on how our relationship with these animals has changed. News of their sighting that once inspired more primal urges now spreads like wildfire for different reasons. People gather along the coast to witness the wonder of their existence and the spectacle of their migration in the context of all we know about them, and in recognition that there is so much we still do not know.
Wallowing lumps of thunder and night. Oh my gosh. This is a line that will live in my head forever, now. It is fascinating to think how our relationships with nature ebb and flow and metamorphose, according to culture and need and circumstance. I like to think wonder has always been threaded through our relationships with whales though!
Always a pleasure to read, especially the drive to actually be in proximity to those creatures.
Thank you!! Glad you enjoyed it 😊
I’m so glad I happened upon your writing. Thank you for putting all of this down and giving me a shiver of wonder this morning. As a house-bound (at the moment) carer for two young kids, I really really needed it.
This is so lovely to read, Sarah. So happy I could bring a little ray of wonder to your morning ☀️ 🐋
Such a lovely piece! And imagine, some day we might be able to learn Orca language--I just marvel at the thought.
I'm glad you enjoyed it!!
Thanks for the Magic! We love the Orcas where I live.
Glad you enjoyed it and so glad to hear about the orca love! Where are you based?
Another beautifully written post about subjects which are very dear to my heart, nature and specifically the sea. Also I love the fact that yiur're dog is called Magnus 🥰
I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed it, Lisa! Thank you for this lovely comment. We thought we'd choose a Norse/Orcadian name for our boy!
Being a pragmatist, I find the magic in their evolution from aquatic to land based mammal then returning to the oceans, quite the mystery. The magic of their highly tuned hunting practices, that of a predator with a sophisticated brain and well equipped for the tasks. So many seemingly human attributes that are not human at all, but those of the creature itself, and concerns itself with those. When I look into the eyes of a predator, I see the hypnotic gaze of one that would prefer I remain still. The magnificent glory of the cycle of life, complete with the harsh realities we all must bear. That is magic enough for me.
This is where I find my magic, too. In all the mystery of their minds, their perception of the world, their 'umwelt', the cycle of life, the coexistence of all of these magnificent creatures. And I agree, I think we lose some of the wonder of other creatures when we assign/find value only in traits we ourselves have - it perhaps shows the egocentric nature of our fragile human selves! Thank you for sharing where you find your magic.
I wish I could remember whose restack led me to this post, because I would like to thank them. What a beautiful piece. My parents lived, for a little while, on Friday Harbor Island in Puget Sound. Their house was perched on a piece of land not far from a short cliff that fell off into the sound. Most mornings in the summer we were able to see the orcas. We'd be sitting in the kitchen having breakfast when we'd hear the 'pfshaw' sound of them exhaling through their blowholes. We'd abandon coffee and toast and whatever else was on offer to run down to the cliff's edge (often still in pajamas and robes) so we could catch the magic of their passage just below us. And it was magic. No doubt. The encounter unlocked something in me every single time.
Oh this fills my heart with joy!! There's no limit to the wonder, is there? It comes every time.
This was beautiful, thank you! I live on Vancouver Island and the orcas are a treasure.💕
Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Vancouver Island is one of my favourite places 💚
Thank you for this! I have a deep love of orcas (I even have a tattoo of one!). this story was so alive and loving. The moment when science and magic blend together is my favorite.
Mine too!! Thank you so much for the kind comment, Lucia, I'm glad you enjoyed the piece x
My world is unbroken because I live in the sea…
As someone who dreams of one day seeing the mystic beauty of the North Sea, I cannot be grateful enough for being magically connected to such a reality. A perfect reading to start the day.
This fills me with joy! Thank you for the lovely comment.