The Orcas at the Beach

Each summer, I am blessed to spend a week with my granddaughters.

It's one of my favorite weeks of the entire year.

This year, the girls—ages 11, 12, and 13—and I were driving to the beach in my truck while their parents drove ahead in their car.

As we rounded a corner, Alli looked out the window and asked, "Hey Grandma...are those whales?"

Without even looking, I replied, "No, honey. Orcas don't come in this far."

Sounding a little disappointed, she quietly said, "Oh...okay."

A moment later she asked again.

"Grandma...are you sure?"

This time I looked.

To my complete surprise, there was a pod of orcas closer to shore than I had ever seen in my life.

I slammed on the brakes, left the truck running, and all four of us ran toward the beach.

"This is so special!" I told the girls. "I've never seen them this close before!"

We stood at the water's edge in complete awe as the pod quietly swam toward the bay.

I thought the moment couldn't possibly get any better.

Then it did.

The entire pod turned around.

Including a brand-new calf.

Together, they swam back toward the open sea, passing directly in front of us.

It felt like such a gift.

We stood there silently, taking in every second.

Then, as I spoke, I noticed my son-in-law running down the beach toward us.

I smiled.

"Oh good," I thought. "He's just as excited as I am."

As he got closer, I realized I was wrong.

He was waving his arms and yelling.

"Girls! Get away from the water! Those are apex predators! Don't be crazy!"

The girls looked at me with hopeful eyes.

I smiled and said, "Okay girls, listen to your dad."

We stepped back from the water and continued watching from a greater distance as this beautiful family of orcas silently disappeared back into the sea.

When we climbed back into the truck, there was an awkward silence.

After a few minutes I quietly asked the girls,

"Do you know how many people have ever been attacked by a wild orca?"

They shook their heads.

I knew the answer, but these girls are Gen Z.

So I asked Google.

Google replied, "There are no documented records of a wild orca intentionally killing a human."

I let that sit for a moment.

Then I said,

"Girls, animals don't spend their lives looking for humans to hurt."

"They're not out here searching for someone to attack."

"Most wild animals simply want to live their lives. They have families to care for, food to find, and babies to protect—just like we do."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't be careful. Wild animals deserve our respect precisely because they are wild."

"But respect is very different from fear."

"When we give them space, honor their boundaries, and remember that we're visitors in their home, peaceful encounters are far more common than conflict."

I hope that afternoon becomes one of those memories my granddaughters never forget.

Not simply because they saw a family of orcas.

But because they learned that awe and respect can exist together.

That we don't have to fear every wild thing we don't fully understand.

Sometimes all that's needed is humility.

A little distance.

And a lot of respect.

What the Orcas Taught Me

One of the things I have learned from animals is that they rarely fit the stories humans tell about them.

Snakes are called evil.

Wolves are called vicious.

Coyotes are called pests.

Orcas are called killers.

Yet when I meet these animals, I don't meet monsters.

I meet beings living their lives.

That doesn't mean they aren't powerful.

They are.

It doesn't mean we should approach them carelessly.

We shouldn't.

Respecting wild animals means honoring who they are. It means giving them space, recognizing that they have instincts, families, and boundaries of their own. Respect asks us to be wise. Fear asks us to assume the worst.

One of the recurring themes in my own life has been learning to choose curiosity before certainty. When we become curious instead of immediately afraid, we begin to see the natural world differently. We remember that we are not separate from it—we are part of it.

Perhaps the goal isn't to become fearless.

Perhaps it's to become respectful enough that fear no longer writes the entire story.

You May Be Wondering...

Is it safe to be around wild animals?

Wild animals deserve both our admiration and our caution. Every encounter is different, and giving them plenty of space is one of the greatest gifts we can offer. Respecting wildlife means allowing them to remain wild, without expecting them to behave like us or around us.

What I've discovered is that when we replace unnecessary fear with informed respect, we create space for wonder.

And sometimes, if we're very fortunate, wonder swims right past us in the form of a family of orcas.

May you see the world through the eyes of love, remembering that we are all part of one living, sacred whole.