Mass Movement

of herring and humans

I start watching for herring in February. I look for the signs, which are told by everyone but the fish themselves.

When I see groups of seals suspiciously lurking in the shallows by the jetty, I know we’re getting close.

When the bay, sparsely populated throughout the winter, begins to fill with flocks of birds, I start getting excited.

This year, on March 2, a massive group spawn of herring took place in Yaquina Bay. The water took on a chalky-blue hue and all the birds and mammals came to the party. Just like last year, this spawning event coincided closely with the March 3rd full moon. Last year full moon was March 14^th, and the herring spawned on the 13^th, lending another shred of evidence to my herring-tides dataset.

Conveniently for me, this meant that a generous low tide would happen the afternoon of March 2^nd, and I could access the beach inside the jetty where so much of the activity was occurring. I’ve never been able to catch sight of so many herring still jumping in the waves.

Unbelievably, I was able to witness many birds, including a bald eagle, feeding on herring. Near the eagle, a well-fed seal was resting as though she had just pushed back from the most luxurious buffet. Sea lions cruised through, and still the herring kept jumping, hurling themselves into the shallows, emptying themselves of eggs and milt, catapulting their species into the future.

As the sun knelt toward the horizon, the rocks lit up with pearly jewels, uncountable embryos attached to the vegetation on every rock.

In the face of this expression of joy and life and abundance, I can’t help but want to get as close as possible, to inhale the scent and listen to the symphony and touch the textures. To drink in the sensory experience and revel in awe.

It made me think about the mass movement of groups, the power in coordinating to achieve big goals, to provide for the future. It made me think about the losses, the fallen ones whose lives and deaths have touched and inspired so many. It made me fall in love with this earth, this ocean, all over again.

I’ll see you in a week at the protest.