Musing: "From the great deep to the great deep he goes."

Two points to the person who knows from where my title comes. Maybe even five. Anyway, this is going to be a rather short entry, as my attention span in the summer is shorter than the memory of a flea. And I'm going to be abrupt. No nice segues, transitional paragraphs, nada. It is what it is.

I wonder what it looks like when a whale dies. Do the sea creatures nearby stop and pay their condolences as the 10-ton creature sinks deeper and deeper into the great abyss, like it's the passing of a great king? Or, does the whale fall slowly and steadily like a snowflake in winter, languidly losing its illumination as it creeps closer and closer to the pitch floor, where, when it falls, it is invisible and silent?

Maybe the sea floor isn't of sand and silt, but rather a menagerie of fallen sea kings.