I almost went to NecronomiCon this weekend. I'm happy I didn't, because finding a horseshoe crab got me much more up close and personal to the great beasts dwelling below the sea.
It was well and fully dead when I found it, washed up on shore in some seaweed. I named it Heathcliff and carried it back to show my parents - along the way, getting the attention of a lot of the kids, and most of the adults too.
My family had gone to a beach on the Connecticut side of the Long Island Sound for the afternoon, to get out of Manhattan for a little while. We had the option of a lake, but figured the ocean would be a better choice. At first the beach looked nice and pleasant - plenty of shells, lots of sand, clear blue ocean - and then I looked to my right and saw a little breakwater, and knew I had to go explore over there. Because there'd be stuff there. Living things. Even if it'd just be lots of mussels and barnacles, it'd beat plankton. And on my way over, I found Heathcliff. At first I thought it was a helmet or something, and then I realized just what I was looking at, and practically shrieked and ran over. I'd never seen one in the wild, alive or dead, and couldn't help but be unbelievably proud over finding it. Even if it was just sitting right there, just washed up like so much flotsam and jetsam. Still. Aside from a few bits of the guts, a couple of feet, the tip of the spiny tail, Heathcliff was fully intact - no longer a living fossil, but still a modern one, and utterly fascinating to behold and inspect close-up.
Since I didn't have to worry about Heathcliff wandering off, I put it down next to the family blanket, and went back to the breakwater. My feet are still sore, and sporting a few cuts, from climbing on and around slippery rocks and all over seashells of an assortment of species, plus a few small but well-established barnacle colonies. All well worth it. There was a little spot with marsh-grass growing and assorted little sandpipers dipping around, what was either a Bonaparte or Laughing Gull along with some sort of large marble-mottled gull, tiny little fish I couldn't ever hope to identify, hermit and free-roaming crabs, little snails, and generally a lot more going on than just shells, sand, and water.
I put Heathcliff back where I found it before we left. It seemed appropriate.
It was well and fully dead when I found it, washed up on shore in some seaweed. I named it Heathcliff and carried it back to show my parents - along the way, getting the attention of a lot of the kids, and most of the adults too.
My family had gone to a beach on the Connecticut side of the Long Island Sound for the afternoon, to get out of Manhattan for a little while. We had the option of a lake, but figured the ocean would be a better choice. At first the beach looked nice and pleasant - plenty of shells, lots of sand, clear blue ocean - and then I looked to my right and saw a little breakwater, and knew I had to go explore over there. Because there'd be stuff there. Living things. Even if it'd just be lots of mussels and barnacles, it'd beat plankton. And on my way over, I found Heathcliff. At first I thought it was a helmet or something, and then I realized just what I was looking at, and practically shrieked and ran over. I'd never seen one in the wild, alive or dead, and couldn't help but be unbelievably proud over finding it. Even if it was just sitting right there, just washed up like so much flotsam and jetsam. Still. Aside from a few bits of the guts, a couple of feet, the tip of the spiny tail, Heathcliff was fully intact - no longer a living fossil, but still a modern one, and utterly fascinating to behold and inspect close-up.
Since I didn't have to worry about Heathcliff wandering off, I put it down next to the family blanket, and went back to the breakwater. My feet are still sore, and sporting a few cuts, from climbing on and around slippery rocks and all over seashells of an assortment of species, plus a few small but well-established barnacle colonies. All well worth it. There was a little spot with marsh-grass growing and assorted little sandpipers dipping around, what was either a Bonaparte or Laughing Gull along with some sort of large marble-mottled gull, tiny little fish I couldn't ever hope to identify, hermit and free-roaming crabs, little snails, and generally a lot more going on than just shells, sand, and water.
I put Heathcliff back where I found it before we left. It seemed appropriate.
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