Monterey Aquarium
The Monterey Aquarium ended up being one of those places that lives up to the hype. From the moment we walked in, everyone was completely captivated. The massive tanks quickly became the favorites, only just barely beating out the jellyfish exhibits.
At one point, Aaron and the kids hurried ahead to catch the otter feeding while I lingered in front of the giant kelp forest. Light filtered down through the swaying fronds, and the entire room felt hushed and slow. An older gentleman wearing a volunteer vest stepped up beside me and, in the gentlest voice, said, “I could watch this for hours. Sometimes I do.” I loved that moment so much. It was simple and deeply human.
Later that evening, while we were sharing our favorite parts of the day, that same gentle man appeared in Demory’s story as well. He had shown her a shark egg at the touch pools and shared all sorts of fun little facts, clearly delighted to pass along what he knew. I loved that her day had been touched by the same quiet magic that had moved me.
After the aquarium, the rain slowed to a light drizzle, so we took advantage and walked down Cannery Row. It was charming and very fishing-village picturesque, full of restaurants, fun attractions, and tourist shops (as America does). We came across a mirror maze, and the kids were thrilled to try it. I was shocked that it kept them occupied for nearly an hour. One maze. They went through it over and over again in every possible way: together, separately, wearing silly kaleidoscope glasses, and even walking backward. We kept joking that it would be perfect if they served fancy cocktails at the entrance.
We finished the day with ice cream from a little shop inside an old bus near our campground in Big Sur. The kids each ordered a scoop and were given giant cones, and the laughingest (it’s a real word…I looked it up because it’s the only word to describe this person!), happiest man rang us up for just three dollars, saying, “I love to make people’s day.”
As we settled in that night, I kept thinking about two gentle, smiling strangers who had quietly shaped our day. One who lingered with wonder, watching kelp sway, and one who delighted in making someone’s day a little sweeter. Small moments, freely given, that stayed with us.