This morning I found one that I thought was dead. The wet sand was covered with the drag marks from hundreds of tails. Maybe last night was egg-laying party time. There was one high up on the beach, I thought she was dead. She was clogged with sand, and not moving. I prodded her gently, and she moved her tail just a feeble little bit. I know the egg laying is done at night, so she must have been there for ages. I picked her up by the tail and ran down to the water with her. Not sure if she will live, but she seemed to be trying.
Hazel was not a bit interested. She had caught sight of Mr and Mrs Swan. They had been asleep in the sand, heads under wings, but at her approach they waded out and glided away a safe distance. They were not at all worried, Swans make me smile. As a kid I knew some that would eat from my hand. I am sure these are not that tame. They always look like they have black rubber feet.
So: since coming here: periwinkles, medium sized fish, hermit crabs, horseshoe crabs, swans, ducks, gulls, and one raccoon. Also I smelled a skunk, distant on the wind, the other night. (I have nothing against skunks, but would rather smell from a distance than see up close.)
Coney Island is a strange little place. I still feel as though I have come to live at the fair.
On a not so happy note, daughter's neurologist appointment is today. I will let you all know how it goes.