Lost Melodies

Today wasn't the first day he sang to me. Usually all I could hear was silence. But his voice was becoming familiar when I visited my local beach—low, long notes that were mellow and beckoning. They reminded me of a tuba; one of the only instruments I could hear in the school band. The sound felt extra amplified by my hearing aids, so I removed them to test the theory, and the singing stopped.

       When I placed them back in a soft, kind voice carried gently to me.

       'That little shell around your ear lets you hear my songs, little one. Would you care to swim with me? I have much to show you.'

       Touching my hearing aid, I realised that's what the 'little shell' was. The voice likely belonged to someone who called the ocean home. I was not scared—I had always been drawn to water. Knives of cold pierced through me as I stepped into the foam, but once the cold water stopped stinging, I swam further.

       The ocean's calming nature despite its unimaginable depth inspired a stillness within me. I felt my own emotions gently or violently reflected in her changeability. Extended moments of calm were followed by crashing emptiness.

       It wasn't long until I saw him. A lash of his fin propelled the Blue Whale in front of me. I felt like a lost shell on a beach that stretched on forever, but for all the difference in our sizes, his presence filled me with a glowing sense of safety I'd never felt before.      

       'You came, little one.'

       I smiled.

       'Come, I have much to show you.' A red mist approached us—squinting, I realised it was a swarm of krill. Once they had passed, I noticed a necklace floating before me.

       'Put that on, little one, and you will be of the ocean.'

       When the stone resembling a pearl touched my bare skin I found myself able to breathe.

       'Let us go. You are the first human I have spoken to in over one hundred years. Usually I would keep to creatures of the sea but I now have little choice. You see, my mother—she is dying. My mother is the ocean. She is the mother to us all. Including yourself, little one. Myself and all other aquatic creatures live in a symbiotic relationship. We are all reliant on one another. From the phytoplankton to myself, we serve a purpose much larger than ourselves. The creatures of the sea—we do not take more than we need. However, that ethos does not apply to human beings. Humans have nearly emptied the ocean of my family, and those who remain must live in the waste dumped here by your kind.' His sober tone had my heart wrenching in agony. My time is up, little one. I have lived an age. Use my gift to be a voice for the voiceless. Little, kind human, please speak on our behalf. Will you please help us?'