I watch the red sun set into a choppy sea. The wind brushes over my skin and tosses my hair like the long leaves of the palm. As I stand, looking west, all the world is water and I, with my two strong legs, with my strong heart and my deep lungs, I belong to it.

My dolphin family charges, mouths open, into a school of mullet. Seagulls glide overhead, eager for leavings. I stoop, stirring the water with my hands. I breathe in the air laced with seaweed and salt.

Waves whisper onto the beach, sucking at my heels and my toes. I gaze across the orange-tipped water, glad for each glimpse of my dolphin family surfacing.

A solitary brittle star brushes past my foot as it hunts for mussels in the twilight. I stand and walk slowly along the margin of the sea.

Around me the night creatures come to life, scurrying in the sand, creeping along blades of grass, nibbling sea oats.

I settle into my nest of leaves and make a sound high in my throat, a sound that forms a picture for my dolphin mother. I say good night to her, to my dolphin aunts, to my dolphin cousins.

Sweeping my hair back from my face, I breathe in the fresh night smells. It is the end of another dolphin day.

I sing my name to the first star. All that I am, all that I was, all that I ever will be, I put into my song.

My dolphin mother hears, and knows, and sings back.

Wrapping my arms around myself, all at once, unbidden, the past breaks over me. I’m awash in the memory of my fleeting human days; the play on the computer, the music of the recorder, the laughter of Shay. I remember the walks to the pool, and the talk of doctors, and the curiosity of strangers. I remember the sound of traffic, and the taste of sweet cake, and the smell of Sandy. I remember that last moment with the human boy, the beautiful human boy, and how the boat waited and waited so long for me I nearly returned.

This wanting has come before, and yet each time, I am startled by the fierce and sudden hunger for things left behind.

But before long the wanting passes.

I cover myself with my long hair, turn toward the soft blowing of my dolphin family, and give myself to sleep.