I was telling a Londoner recently about the North Yorkshire coast. “I really must go one day,” she said, sounding uncertain. “But we’ve already booked for Mexico next year — we’re going whale-watching.”

Sean Baxter, a fisherman, has been encouraging me to search whales out for years. This was another reason why I failed to mention the Yorkshire whale: I had never seen them myself. How could Yorkshire ever compete with famous places such as: Kaikoura, Anacortes and Isle St Marie? Baxter was sure that it could. There was only one way to test it out.

We went in September, accompanied by wildlife guide Richard Baines. No birds escaped his eye. For Baxter, though, the birds had added value. “They will lead us to the whales.”

The waves drew us towards deeper water. I was looking at every shadow in the water, but found nothing. An instant later, a great black minke whale (小须鲸) burst upwards for a breath, and then it went down. The whole sequence (连续动作) lasted only a second.

“That’s a young whale,” shouted Baxter. “He will do that three times — watch out over there.”

We waited and waited, but the creature remained below. My excitement died down gradually and I was sure our moment had gone. Then, half an hour later, the whale came up again. Now, it was racing towards the boat. “He’s going under us,” shouted Baxter. I could see it clearly. I'm sure it was taking a good look at our boat and its crew (船员). Then it went down.

As the hours went by, I became familiar with the ways of different whales. Some swam purposefully, ignoring the boat; others rose higher in the water. The young would rush over, like puppies, keen (热切的) to play. I felt as if I had discovered an intelligent alien from space living at the end of my garden. Now I'm hooked (着迷的); I can't wait to get out there again. Maybe I will get lucky and see more whales.

It was a cold winter. The wind blew all night and the snow was blinding. When morning came, my three children and I got up and made our way to the windows. As we looked out the window, we saw that the henhouse was gone. Our three hens had been blown away.

I looked at the emptiness outside. Then I saw all three chickens sat around the edge of a white bucket. How was this violent wind not blowing them into the field beyond? I quickly pulled on long snow pants and heavy winter coat, wrapped a scarf and stuck my feet into very large boots.

I shouted at the wind as it blew. I was alone, save for my children. They stared out the window into the vast white sea of snow, their eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Outside I heard the sound of my boots as I walked against the wind.

The snow circling around me, I steadily made my way to the soft cluck-cluck-cluck sound my hens always made. When I reached them, I saw that their little feet were holding on to the edge of the bucket, heads bent forward and away from the wind. I gently lifted each hen and put it carefully into the warm inside. Then I began the freezing walk back to the small shed directly behind our house. One by one I laid my chickens on the cold floor, and they began to cluck softly.

As I shut the shed doors, my eyes went directly to the window where my children were watching. They jumped up and down cheering, and so did I! I wasn’t some dragon slayer (屠龙者) from a fairy tale. I was simply a mom, but the look on my children’s faces told me that they thought I was a hero mom.

My dad was in the Air Force. When I was a kid, we moved every few years. That meant a lot of good-byes. It also meant getting used to a whole new community and a whole new school each time we moved. I can still feel what it was like to have to walk into the new school---that sinking feeling in my belly, that heaviness in my throat. It would always take time for me to learn how everything worked, what was cool and what not. It was always a struggle to find where I could fit in.

Already shy, I didn’t have much self-confidence in my friend-making abilities. I was the girl walking in the halls with her head down, panicking. When I spoke, you could hardly hear my soft voice. I was nervous and doubted myself a lot.

It was very hard not having a history with everyone else. I was an outsider. But what I did have was soccer. Wherever I went, I knew that I could fit it with the soccer ball. The soccer team meant a familiar place and immediate friends for me. I could express myself and feel good about myself on the field. Playing hard helped to get rid of all my nervousness.

Throughout our lives, our self-respect goes down when we feel like a failure, and it goes up when we feel successful. Doing something well, being praised, and feeling loved goes a long way. We all need to explore opportunities where we can be good at something and feel good about ourselves. Physical activity and sport participation is a terrific way to build up our sense of self-confidence and self-worth.