Soldiering On

I took the dogs to Bribie Island on Friday. There were showers in Brisbane so the beach seemed the obvious choice.

It turned out to be quite sunny up there. Which was nice. We walked up the beach for a few clicks (that's thriller-speak for ks, which is an abbreviation for km, which is in turn an abbreviation for kilometres) until we came across an icky tidal pool that looked like it was full of paint of some description, the water being coloured weird purple and green in a very lurid and wholly unslightly way.

Around this tidal pool were strange mirage-like shifting blotches of darkness, like a swirling rorschasch of inky somethingness. I wandered tentatively over to discover squads, nay platoons, nay legions, I say whole armies of soldier crabs scuttling around on the sand.

Upon hearing my footfalls they scuttled around, organising themselves into some kind of emergent formation before digging into the sand and disappearing.

I lay on my belly with my camera for a while hoping they'd be daft enough or get bored enough to come out to play. I kept an eye on one little crab in particular, who poked a little eye out of his little pile of sand from time to time, spotted me, and then climbed back into his refuge.

They didn't come out to play again.