Above, light breaks into the water in bright shafts. A humpback whale dives head first into the depths, its long pectoral fins spread wide, its skin grey, white and black with pale speckles.
Far below, small as a punctuation mark, a swimmer floats and looks up at it. Further down the blue grows ever denser; white bubbles swirl around the whale.
Size shifts the scale of everything. Beside this creature every worry shrinks, and what remains is wonder. Il mare ci ricorda quanto siamo piccoli – the sea reminds us how small we are.
Above the sofa, as darkness falls outside, the whale dives ahead of you into the deep – and the room becomes a small sea.











