Renée Owen
Sebastopol, California, USA

The Sea Lion

Sun glints off his rounded belly, enormous, sprawling in the heat. The creosote-soaked dock rolls gently in the wake of sailboats and ferries. He, immobile, peers around with glassy eyes. A thick length of fishing line lassos his midsection, ends knotted in a matted snarl. When he moves, the taut rope tightens, cuts into glistening skin. A bystander who’s not too busy finally calls for help. Before the bevy of marine biologists arrive, with their notebooks, nets and a cage, he takes off. Still tethered to our manmade world, he searches in the frigid coastal waters for ever-diminishing fish.

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