The Whale Was Just the Beginning

December first.

It started with a whale. Specifically, a humpback whale that had been singing the same song for decades with no response, I read one sentence about it in a book I checked out last week, and I thought, I'll just look that up quickly.

Simone was over. We'd both had a slow day, the kind where you end up at my kitchen table with tea and no particular plan. She was reading the back of something I'd left out; I opened the laptop to look up the whale for thirty seconds. An hour and fifteen minutes later we were reading about the Victorian practice of making jewelry out of the hair of the recently deceased, and Simone had her hand over her mouth with that specific expression that is not quite horror and not quite laughter and is entirely both.

presenting the evidence

The thing about a rabbit hole is that every single link feels completely justified in the moment. The whale led to animal communication research, which led to a broader article on mourning rituals, which, look, the connective tissue was there, I promise, it made complete sense as it was happening. Simone kept saying 'okay but why did you click on that one' and the answer was always the same: because I wanted to know. That is the entire answer. That is always the entire answer.

the 'okay but wait' face

I've had the book on the table for four days now. I keep meaning to sit down with it properly. Instead what I've done is read one paragraph, look something up, and lose the rest of the evening. Simone left saying she was going to google one thing when she got home, and I told her I accepted no responsibility for what came next. The whale, for the record, is still out there. Still singing.