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The Pacific Ocean lay calm and serene once again, heeding a silent calling that had governed her actions both, violent and majestic, for millions of years. The rhythmic gentle lapping of her deep cool waters created a musical backdrop for the sound of a lone cream colored gull screeching his complaint over the lack of surface fish with which to fill his empty and aching stomach as he rode a cushion of air high above, as yet unaware, of his close proximity to the pod of sleeping, black and white killer whales that lay submerged in the pre-dawn darkness below. As the moments passed, along with the heavy saturated air, it came as no great surprise to the gull when a golden shaft of light began to unfold from behind him. The birth of a new sun-cycle was now upon him. The hungry gull, encouraged that the increasing warmth might help to lure the elusive fish below to the surface, watched and waited as the darkness began to slowly erode and fall away. It wasn’t until the sun had risen to full view behind him that he heard the sharp popping burst of gas escaping from a killer whale’s blow hole below that he began to understand what his instinctive mind had been trying to tell him all along, and that was, that there would be no fish in this seemingly empty abyss for quite some time to come as he spotted a black saddled whale break water below him. Soaring upward the gull caught a brisk easterly current of air and faded into the brightening sun.

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