At dusk, the crabs came out. Thousands really. Skittering in their sideways movements down to the water to feed and back to their little holes. Armed with flashlights we headed down to see what we could find. I'm hopeful I didn't step on any, but there were a lot and I don't want to think about the curious crunching sounds I hear on occasion during our hunt..
The brave boys would pick them up, collecting sand bucket full of large disgruntled creatures. Though in the dark, they weren't the most photographic creatures so I'll spare you the remarkably blurry pictures I took of these crustaceans.
Denver loved the crab hunting although Willa seemed to be spooked by their crabbiness.
Denver, at 7 1/2, seemed to be transitioning from one of the 'little girls' to trying to be a big kid. Of course, it was only a partial transition. She still needed us a lot, but definitely less than in vacations past. And I caught her sneaking up behind Willa in the pool and shoving her forward with a giggle. Willa took it in the good humor it was meant but it struck me at the time as something my brothers' kids would do. And I remember thinking, 'Wow, she's trying to be like them, like a big kid.' Not a bad thing since I adore my nephews and niece. And they certainly do more than shove each other around, at least I'm pretty sure they do:)
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