Seal Saga Part 3

I took a leaf out of Grace's journal and spent a lazy morning making the most of the sunshine. It was warm enough to lie on the grass reading and gazing up into the still-green canopy of the ash tree behind the house.

In the afternoon the dog and I strolled to the coast. I settled into my usual spot, prone on the short turf of the cliff edge and, peering down, I was rewarded with a fascinating slice of seal life that kept me riveted for almost an hour. One of the pups was lying asleep at the top of the storm beach, its fluffy white coat patched now with grown-up grey. The other pup was in the water with its mother. They were having a whale seal of a time, frolicking and gambolling in and out of the rocks but always returning quickly to make affectionate contact with each other, nuzzling and touching like any fond mother and infant.

Eventually the mother seal hauled out and sprawled mermaid-like across a rock; the baby wriggled after her and a peaceful suckling session ensued. Through my binoculars I could see the pup latch on to first one, then the other, of the mother's extended nipples until finally it rolled away and fell asleep, satiated.

All the while a bull seal had been watching and waiting further out in the bay, calmly rolling with the light waves, occasionally dipping down and up again to make loud bathroom noises the way all males are wont to do. After a short rest the female eased herself back into the water and the male approached her. I thought there might be some seal-on-seal action but it was not of the kind I expected. The male came close up and for a moment they were face to face but then the female snarled and lunged. They submerged in a flurry of angry bubbles and then swam apart. This happened twice more: a rapprochement followed by burst of aggression and another separation. Not now, can't you see I've only just put the baby down! she seemed to be saying (impossible not to anthropomorphize) or maybe this is part of their normal mating ritual/love play?*

In the end the bull sea took the hint and drifted back to his holding pattern at a discreet distance, but still watching and waiting - just hanging.

This image shows the moment the pair twisted together in a violent tango of aquatic passion. (Female on right, mouth open ready to strike.)
Perhaps the final act of this sexual drama will play out after darkness descends.

A set of today's images can be found here, mother and child followed by Mr and Mrs.

* When Sylvia Plath first met Ted Hughes: During their first embrace Plath bit him “long and hard” on the cheek; when the couple emerged from the room, blood was pouring down his face... Hughes carried the “swelling ring-moat of tooth marks” on his face for the next month or so, while he admitted that the encounter and the woman remained branded on his self “for good.”