The Jeanne Crandall Broulik Memorial Prize
Debra Daniel
Life Under Water
For those of us who never learned to swim like dolphins, never managed to put aside the Discovery channel’s annual week of shark-filled shows, for those of us who cannot even jump into an innocent backyard pool without hyperventilating and who sweat at the mere idea of the deep end, for those of us sad, solid land-footed humans, there are snorkel boards with built-in masks so that we can hold on to something somewhat steady and urge our clumsy wooden feet to paddle into the clear turquoise waters of Hawaii’s coast where we can peer under the surface. Without getting our faces wet we can see butterflies, parrots, and angels, even the urchins and eels. We can scan the coral reef for the humuhumunukunukuapua’a, and follow along with glad yellows and oranges and blues until we are able to let go the held breath that has been keeping us, let go the evolution that kept us trapped on the dry land of disbelief.