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In the wilderness lies the preservation of the world.
Henry David Thoreau

The Sealion Poem

Floating through crisp air, Is it just me or is this stench hideous? Thoughts if I’m awake or not. My hands in an iron grip, Too stiff to open and free. After hours of matching a beat. Are we there yet? Slashing through thick water. As a motorboat approaches, We become a tourist attraction. Camera and lights, But shouldn’t they face the other way. Decision to look at fools or sea lions, Drifting away slowley. Belches and groans come from the lions. So from the back and front there are snorts and sounds, But not like those in a zoo, From behind bars. These are free, Hardly ten meters from us. Alive, breathing and big as ever. Thick flubbery bodies with an immense weight, Flapping away to reach the top. One bumps his chest to look very large Out of breath but proud to be above. So remember, The number one rule is: Enjoy the moment, Take pictures, Admire the bull And show him respect, And most importantly don’t look at the big guy’s girl seals. But in the end, It is the moment of a life time, Nothing exactly like this will ever happen again, for any of us. Written by: Christina Armstrong and Gerald Jim http://wi.wildblog.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/lr-1475.jpghttp://wi.wildblog.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/lr-1265.jpghttp://wi.wildblog.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/lr-0629.jpghttp://wi.wildblog.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/lr-1375.jpghttp://wi.wildblog.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/lr-1410.jpghttp://wi.wildblog.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/lr-0438.jpg

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