I have a few things to say, things readers have written in that have contributed and extended my thoughts about social class, and a response to some of the stuff you've written lately. But today summer burst in on us, everyone and their extended family is on the island, plus I had visitors, too. Boats are rafted on the floats on the dock because there's not room for everyone, and cars are all willy nilly squeezed into the woods and jammed into places in the parking lot. The westerly just swung around to the south and it looks like the thundershowers are going to miss us this afternoon. It's too busy to sit still and think much.
Instead I'll send you this picture of seals. Last night a little before sunset it was still and calm, and one of the dogs and I took a motorboat out to Seal Rock, a ledge that's out of the water at low tide, where loads of seals like to lounge around and sun themselves. When we arrived they all bellyflopped into the water, but I turned off the motor and just let the boat drift there. I counted thirty sleek wet heads, all swimming towards me, curiously, and then ducking underwater, on all sides of my boat. Finally they got sick of being vigilant, and clambered back up on the rocks. When they're out of the water, they're lots lighter colored than when they're swimming around. They sometimes growl like dogs when they're fussing with one another, like if one of them wants to bully another one off a special spot on the rock. And when they're swimming close to you they exhale through their nose in the quiet afternoon stillness, and it's great to be near enough, and silent enough, to hear them huffing.