![]() Dougie turned it over to see a hermit crab shrunk back into it as far as it could go. The guy pulled a shell out of his other pocket. He turned his palm up and waggled his fingers in a "come on" gesture, asking if the diver had collected anything else. I watched one of the divers pull a piece of coral out of the pocket of his buoyancy vest and show it to Dougie, who took it, examined it, and tossed it over his shoulder so that it sank back to the bottom. Soon we were ascending along the mooring line to stop at fifteen feet below the surface to do a three-minute safety stop. I enjoyed watching the silver bubbles of the divers I was following trail upward like strings of mercury beads. I heard the snap and pop of mantis shrimp claws as they stunned their prey and watched fish of various species line up at a cleaning station on top of a nearby coral head where red and white banded coral shrimp waved their long white antennae to attract customers like a carwash strings banners. The water was the perfect temperature, eighty-two degrees, and it felt like silk on my skin as I swam. They tend them like any good gardener, repelling invading blue tangs that swim by for a snack. I like watching the sun glint on their silver scales.Īlong the rails and in the hawse-holes where the anchor chains used to slide, damselfishes have their algae gardens. They swim with their mouths open so that their needle-sharp teeth are on display. I think of them as the teenaged gangs of the reef. The silver blade of a barracuda patrolled the top deck. They're fast swimmers and always ready for a handout. There was the school of yellowtail jacks, silver white and spotted with lemon yellow. ![]() I kept them in sight but was free to explore the world that had grown up around the artificial reef of the shipwreck. Dougie and the other divers were slowly descending so I equalized my ears, adjusted my buoyancy, and swam down to meet them at the bottom. Once the silver bubbles of my entry dissipated I looked down to see the shipwreck upright on the white sand eighty feet below. Yay!Ģ4 December-Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview. But that will mean skiing for the kids and snowshoeing for Meemaw. I have faith that soon we'll have all the snow we can handle. We woke up to a dusting of snow and, even though it never got out of the teens, the sunshine melted most of it away so we're having a brown Christmas. This was a different squirrel, I could tell because he didn't hang from his back feet like the others do, but clamped on with all four feet and used his teeth to gnaw off chunks of suet cake. There was only one squirrel on the suet today. What else did I have to do? Naps are good. I woke up a half hour later with the yarn threaded through my fingers and the hat and needles on the floor. I'd have had it done sooner than I did except I fell asleep with it in my hands. I finished the December Preemie Hat #4 this afternoon. I've got all the presents wrapped and in a big bag to carry to DS's tomorrow. ![]() I got my pudding made for my contribution to Christmas supper tomorrow. I know that it's Christmas Eve because the calendar says it and the newspaper says it but it felt like another plain old day to me.
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