A whale rockets out of water...
Launching itself into the air...
On many occasions I've watched whales steam decorously and determinedly across the bay with just the occasional spout or glimpse of back visible. This group danced and rolled and flapped their tails and flew through the air.
This whale is spyhopping—poking its head out of the water presumable for a look around.
How can something that vast be so incredibly graceful?
One last breath, and the travelers are on their way again.
My companions and I watched the whales until they vanished out of sight, headed toward Point Dume and on the next phase of their epic journey to the arctic seas that are their summer home.
The last heart-shaped spouts caught the light of the setting sun, and then the whales were gone. One by one, their earthbound watchers awoke from the spell, got back into their cars, and drove away, each of us aware that we had witnessed something amazing; whales, flying through the air like birds, or like angels.