St George is a nature lovers paradise. The Island is dotted with marked off triangles where sea turtle eggs are securely nested waiting to hatch. There are no lights on the beach and all the condos have black out curtains to keep from confusing hatch lings that instinctively know to look for the light of the horizon. The dolphins swim so close you sometimes wonder if you could touch them. The sightings are so common, the kids quit turning to look when we yelled. The other native inhabitant is the crab. Last year we had one that lived right off our patio, and was staring at us each morning when we raised the blinds. This year the girls went looking for them. Brian couldn't go and he couldn't handle the twins very well for long, so the girls headed out with whatever adult they could convince. The big crabs were okay. However.... one night Uncle Danny and Grandpa led the expedition to the beach. The girls wanted to make sure I didn't miss oooing and ahhhing over their finds, so brought back a bag filled not only with a larger crab, but a handful of quarter and dime sized little suckers which they promptly released in the condo. Let's see, sand colored crabs racing around on the sand colored carpet and me in bare feet. I'll take the chair thanks.
2 comments:
That must have happened after we left! I'm assuming Karen wasn't involved in this. I definitely remember her whimper-crying when Danny tried to catch one with a stick at St. Simons several years ago.
Danny promises me this was not his call and Grandpa was the highest ranking adult in this decision! Sure.
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