Flesh and blood

It was the summer of 2011, and I was fully immersed in an exploratory journey into the nature of jellies. I was a crime scene investigator and the ocean was the scene of the crime. Not only were jellyfish the subject of my work, but they soon became an icon of inspiration in my life. Not soon after I began my journey with the fascinating non-polyps of the phylum Cnidaria, it became clear to me what the animals really were. Jellyfish- gellatinous mushroom-cap umbrellas over streamers on a gentle-wind day; their stingers like candy jube jubes glued to spagetti arms. A skin sac over gummy-bear innards, their structure not unlike the fluid-filled sacs found in a segment of an orange. (Next time you bite into an orange, ponder the hundreds of tiny jellyfish held in its flesh). I have always loved my career as a researcher of marine life, but this new project seemed different. The jellies drew me in- each pulsation of their fluid bodies, a siren's call to my open ears. So what did I discover about the jellies? Some might say they are my power animal. I don't believe in power animals, but I will continue to ponder them like a chef ponders a fine Dutch cheese in preparation for a grilled cheese sandwich challenge.