July 30, 2010 @ 8:02 am
Just Me and the Crabs
Delaware Coastal Programs, Dover, DE (38)
So my writings have been pretty traditional. I tell you about where I’ve been, the organizations with whom I’ve been working, and added, what I’ve hoped to be a few interesting, maybe even inspirational, thoughts. But I wanted to try something a bit different for this entry, something beyond the usual train of thought to which most of us have become accustomed. I think you’ll definitely find a certain flow to the piece, but that’s just it. The story should just float along, be read easily, pausing when you deem necessary. Only use my punctuations as a guide, not as an absolute. You should feel the sand as it slips between your fingers, the heat as it radiates from your skin. The experience was so moving, I just couldn’t write in single, declarative thoughts.
So, from the beaches, here we go…
The sun was bright, the waves were tumbling, and into the sandy grounds they fell. The living beings swam with hope, hope that they’d reach the shores again soon. The winds were strong but also soothing, and holding your tongue in the air, you could almost taste the salt as it floated past you in the breeze.
The name “horseshoe crab” made me laugh at first. Being from Kentucky, the only horseshoes we would ever see were on farms, at the race tracks, or oddly enough, on the hooves of a striking Thoroughbred as it gallops across the farms scattered throughout the Bluegrass state. But these crabs aren’t like the ones you pick up in your just-around-the-corner pet store. Horseshoe crabs are unlike any other; uniquely shaped, unbelievably determined, simply magnificent in their own right. They’ve been around for roughly 250 million years, and though they’ve changed very little during that time, their endurance is something to be admired. Through ever changing weather, they each continue on with their hardened shell, the kind of shell that lets one move uninterrupted through the ages.
The light from the sun was dimming, and our counting was about to begin. We would be determining the current status of the crabs along the Delaware coasts. We’d count our steps…one, then, two, three and so on, and then we’d look to find the crabs below us. They may be mating, they may be tagged from an earlier human encounter. If they were struggling to turn themselves upright, we’d lend them a hand.
The sky was now much darker, with only the full moon above guiding our steps. The heavy water filled my shoes, the sand gently scratched at my feet, as we began to walk…in long strides, splashing loudly into the shell-covered beach below. Our first several stops left us with no action from the species, and though we’d seen several mating as we traveled from one destination to the next, the count was meant only for the calculated stops. As we continued along the shore, it was hard to concentrate with the harmonious sounds of the waves folding into one another, crashing against the shore from which they’d just escaped…sounding almost like a roller coaster as it attempts its first slope, but without the terrifying screams, the fluttering butterflies in your stomach.
We’d paced for miles, measuring our steps perfectly, but unable to count even one crab as a part of the completed survey. Though I considered myself somewhat of a bad luck charm, the experience was one that will remain with me forever, and beyond; the night air, the smells, the sounds, and the backdrop to this beautiful “Purpose” makes me smile as I write, and laugh out loud as I consider this life-changing opportunity.
The night had just ended. And yet, just as I was grabbing the flashlight I’d been wearing, I saw a horseshoe crab circling, upside down, digging himself further into the sand. Grasping my hands around his tough exterior, his legs flailing about, I turned him over. And though his shell had a dent or two, he would definitely live a day longer.
As we walked toward the fence separating us from the real world, looking back, into the distance, the water was peaceful. And with the light from the stars and the moon reflecting on the ocean, a seagull glided just above the nearly motionless water. As he curved this way, than that, his wings dampened…and he lifted, soaring wildly, freely, into his future.
