How it all began...

Today, Andres and I took a walk on the beach here in Milford as we customarily do. We have been taking these walks ever since we moved here, weather notwithstanding. If it snows, we wear down winter jackets. If it rains, we put on our Goretex. If it's sunny, we enjoy it all the more. Whatever the weather, we love the ocean and every free moment we get, we're there—kayaking, fishing, walking, exploring.

And so it was that on a cloudy drizzly April day we took our walk along the coastline. I brought my tea along to keep me warm. It's about time spring came, we said. It's April! We suffered through another winter and were sick to death of having to fight the cold.

Suddenly I stopped and pointed down at the sand. There at my feet was a little gelatinous blob.

"Wow, a jellyfish!" I exclaimed.

"Spring is here," nodded Andres. "Spring is finally here."

It was true. These small translucent jellies are a sign of spring. They're also incredibly beautiful, their tiny fragile filters bioluminescing as they work the water around them. We saw a few more as we continued walking. On the way back, I had this idea of taking one home with me. I don't really know why... but I was drawn to it. I had finished my tea, so I filled my mug with saltwater and scooped up a jelly from the water's edge. It was still alive, and perked right up in the mug.

At home, I poured the saltwater into a pyrex bowl. Plop, in went the jelly. I watched it navigate around the bowl for a while, mesmerized by the luminous colors running up and down its edges. That was the poet; the scientist in me wondered where its brain is, or whether it has any sort of consciousness. Oh, yes, and you could see all of its internal organs. I was suddenly really grateful we have opaque skin.

But it really was breathtaking. This perfectly translucent living thing floating around on my dining room table, unaware of a much more complex species observing, admiring it.

What a great shot this would be, I thought.

So I set up my camera on a tripod, thinking I'd take a few shots before turning in for the evening. Famous last words. The jelly would not cooperate. It kept spinning around the bottom of the bowl, turning exactly into the position I did not want. I tried a few different angles, tripod heights, and before long brought in the black backdrop cloth and the studio lamp. I even set the jelly up in a fancy tea glass. Maybe Vogue would notice... and the Jelly would become world famous, bobbling down the catwalks of New York, Milan, London and Tokyo.

I spent the rest of the night taking shots of the Jelly. And little did I know what this magical day had sparked...

if you want to know, read on... !