Friday I drove to Race Point where Right Whales have been feeding for more than a month. I just went for the drive, the beach. As I made my way down the sand, I heard a couple begin to exclaim. Whales, I asked? Yes, indeed. Kindly lending me their binoculars, they pointed, I peered but saw nothing but white caps. The blue was extraordinary, a deep aquamarine tinted by three o’clock sun, and the white was vivid. Handing back the borrowed lens, I watched from the beach, encouraged by the courteous pair. And there it was, a dark smokey plume of spray, signalling Whale! I saw many such plumes, my first sightings since I moved here, and I was ecstatic. I watched, until it got too cold for me, and I turned to head back. I thought of Stanley Kunitz and his Wellfleet Whale, and Adrienne Rich, whom we lost a few days ago. Many more people had gathered, and every so often, I turned back, to see another soft spray of air blown exuberantly into the air, as if to say, we are here, here we are.