Menacing music signals something ominous. My three-year-old grandson, Gavin, looks up at me, and we hug each other closer under the quilt, shivering in anticipation. In the background is . . . something . . . and it’s getting closer and closer. What seemed like something small and close by is really something large and far away and getting closer by the second. Squeeze tighter; Gavin glances up at me and giggles, but I remain serious and calm, preparing for whatever might come. It’s a whale! Zooming toward us!