I neglected to add this photo to my last post. I’m told snorkeling—which I’m not afraid to do, not really, not anymore—is far more shark-attracting than scuba diving—which I am afraid to do. But gazing at Mark’s photos makes me want to dive. So some day, when my toddler is all grown and married and I have grandchildren and I’m an octogenarian, say, I’ll have them push me into a pool and I’ll get PADI certified and then go on my first dive and maybe feed mantas. And if it’s that day the mako comes along with a liking for old lady flesh, so be it. I’ll have raised my son, I’ll have seen my grandchildren. And my husband—who is not afraid to scuba dive, despite having seen sharks and eels and monster lobsters protecting their monster young—my husband, who will no doubt live to be 100+—will have mandatory down time from his cuckoo spouse.
Until then, I’ll photo-gaze. Or glass-bottom-boat venture. Or snorkel…WHERE IN BLAZES ARE MY FINS?