When Presence Is Met
While traveling recently, I felt a quiet pull to see if there might be an opportunity to swim with dolphins. I was part of a larger group, yet in my heart I kept thinking of my three closest friends, the ones I feel most at home with. One of them has always held swimming with dolphins as the very top of her bucket list.
I found a small company guided by certified captains who honor dolphin etiquette and hold deep respect for the ocean and all life within it. Their approach felt aligned. These dolphins are wild and free. Not conditioned. Not touched. Not part of any performance. Simply living their lives, sometimes choosing connection.
After booking a boat for the four of us, dolphins began appearing in my awareness. Playful. Gentle. Loving. It felt less like anticipation and more like a soft remembering.
When the morning arrived, we woke before dawn and made our way through the quiet. As we traveled, the sun rose slowly through the palm trees, casting a warmth that felt welcoming, as though the day itself was offering its blessing.
Out on the water, we were met by a remarkably large pod. Around fifty dolphins moved together in harmony. A group of three to five is already considered a rare gift, so this felt extraordinary in its simplicity.
The first time we entered the water, the pod swam past us slowly, with curiosity. The younger ones lingered closer, eager, yet gently guided by their mothers to remain at a respectful distance. There was no rush—only awareness.
The second time we entered, something shifted. The pod swam past again, then turned and chose to return. They began to interact, to play, to meet us where we were. They came very close. We remained still and respectful, meeting them not with touch, but with open hearts.
A few dolphins swam directly toward me, and there was a quiet humbleness in being met so openly. They were so at ease that a young one drank from its mother right in front of us. In that moment, my heart opened in a way that felt both tender and expansive.
There was no sense of spectacle.
Only exchange.
In the images you see here, you may notice the many energies present. Light, movement, stillness, connection. Even the water seems alive, illuminated by subtle light. At one point, three dolphins moved in such harmony that their fins formed the shape of a heart.
It’s the kind of heart that disappears the moment you question it, and stays the moment you simply allow it.
Later, as other boats arrived, moving faster, chasing the pod, the energy changed. The dolphins began to split into smaller groups, their movement becoming purposeful rather than playful. We felt it immediately. Although we had time remaining, it felt right to leave.
Nature opens when invited.
It knows when it is being pursued.
This experience left me with a deeper knowing that good things truly do come to those who wait. Respect opens doors that force never could. When we meet the natural world with patience, stillness, and reverence, we are sometimes welcomed into moments that stay with us.
There is magic still available to us.
It lives where hearts remain open.
And where we remember to listen.
With love,
Querine
