Softballs and Seals

Thursday night was remarkably awesome.

I had been invited to play softball with a big AmeriCorps crew by a girl named Kaelyn who works at the Seashore Headquarters on Wednesdays and Thursdays. I told her repeatedly that I hadn’t played softball in years was never any good, and she assured me that no one would mind because there were only a few skilled players anyway. Taking her word for it, I showed up at the overgrown field ready to play.

Just minutes after introductions, I was dubbed a team captain. They call it their initiation to their softball group. I picked Kaelyn first, and had to just wing it after that. Oddly enough, the guy with a Phillies shirt and the girl who was our team’s strongest hitter were picked last.

My team took outfield first (I played third base, and didn’t have to do much), and when it was our turn up to bat I was informed that as captain I had to go first. My first two swings were choppy and awkward, but on my third I smacked the ball far and low enough to make it to first base, which I overran significantly because it was only a small sliver of driftwood and I’m not entirely sure it was placed properly. I found second base okay (that piece of wood was a whole two inches wide and six inches long), and third as well. Before I knew it, I had scored our team’s first run! Later that same inning, I scored again before the “five runs per inning” rule was enacted and we went back to the outfield.

I was stranded at third during our next at-bat, and in the final one I was out a first. I didn’t get to make any spectacular plays from third base, but I caught a pass and almost tagged one of the best hitters out. Hey, I was just happy I caught the ball!

We only played for about an hour before one girl had to leave, and the game dissolved into friendly conversation. We disbanded not long after, and I left with a satisfied smile playing on my lips.

When I arrived home it was only about 7:30pm, and there was still enough daylight to hit the beach so I trapsed down there, swinging my keys. I love going down there late on cool evenings, because there are only a few other people meandering through the sand like me. I had originally intended to wander down to my established turnaround point, but there was a couple just ahead of me and I didn’t want to intrude on their romantic little stroll. Instead I settled into the cool, still-damp sand just a few feet out of reach of the crashing waves.

After a few minutes of staring aimlessly into the waves, something in the water caught my eye. Could it be? Yes it was – a seal! And a big one at that. I could tell as I watched the top of his back and then his tail flippers arch through the surface of the water before he was submerged again.

My eyes scanned rapidly in the direction he was headed, but I wasn’t sure how long he could stay under. A few minutes flashed by before I located him again, at which point I stood up and began walking in his direction, guestimating once again where he would pop up next. This time I drastically underestimated his lung capacity and speed, and had to run to have any hope of continuing to follow him. Truth be told, I was lucky I even saw him that third time!

By the sixth time I saw him surface our timing was perfectly in sync, and he surfaced directly out across the water from me. I was just about at my turnaround point by then, but I held on to our connection for one more round, lucky number seven. I blew him a kiss before he dove down once more, then I bid him adieu and headed back along the beach.

The little smile that I wore home from softball was now a big grin as I trudged merrily back through the sand. To think, if I had taken my normal walk my eyes would never have glimpsed that brown head poking up from the surf, and I would have missed out on that magical little encounter with my seal.