I put my hand in the water, there is a big one lying there on the bottom, quite out of reach. But he sees me, I know it, I can feel it, I can tell he is judging me. A smaller one swims by and swims by again. I gently splash the water trying to call the bigger one to me. I give up and step away and at just that moment he comes to me, I put my hand in the water and run it along the ridges by his eyes, the slick smoothness of his skin, the rough bumps. Then I run my hand along the edge of him and to the hard bump at the very front tip, he wiggles it a little as I touch him, a subtle movement, but it is there. I commune with him for some minutes, but we have dinner reservations and this was our last stop. I walk away, touched in deep way, I have a new found love of this animal. I have taken no pictures, not like the half hour I stared transfixed by the dancing jellyfish, turning on the light again and again, taking picture after picture. No this is different. I felt this animals intelligence, rather than being transfixed by my own. Others were feeding them, one child was frightened, asking me, aren’t you afraid he will sting you. No I say, he is so gentle. He watches, unsure. But as I leave he sticks a tentative finger in the water.