Donel

Donel, my young friend and I went to the wharf last night in Monterey. It was busy as usual, but the people were not as busy as the seals. They barked and barked back and forth between a barge and a rock wall on the other side of the wharf.

We walked around until we found the barge of sleeping seals with one wide awake with its head straight up calling for something. I felt sorry for it, until I realize the seals who hang out on the wharf are spoiled with tourists feeding them.

When we walked back a man pointed out a little face below the plank but between the fence and the walkway. It was a baby raccoon watching folks. Where that little guy lives is a mystery, as there was only water under him and people up above.

But everything has a place to nest it seems

While Donel visits, she takes me to work and then explores a bit on her own. She walked all over Carmel and then we met for lunch, and she walked some more and then picked me up in the car and we went to dinner at Cannery Row.

Now about Donel: She was 15 when she first took flying lessons, and I, at 40 years older, took ground school at the same time in Durango, Colorado. We shared the same patient instructor, Arngrim, from the Faroe Islands. He had his hands full with the likes of us. But we didn’t stop. Donel soloed at 16 and I soloed at 56. We made it to the end, while all the men in the ground school didn’t finish.

Donel now lives in Alaska and works for a helicopter company, and neither of us fly anymore. I just can’t afford it, and besides that, I may not pass the medical.

Donel didn’t pass the medical either but before getting grounded she graduated from an aeronautical college.

Today I have to work for awhile and I’m going to send her on to the Monterey Aquarium.

 

 

 

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