The hermit crab was right at the tide line. Every wave turned it over and left it exposed and covered in grit. It used its pincer to wipe the grit off itself just in time for the next wave. And so on. I took a few photos then moved it to a sheltered spot where the rest of the hermit crabs seemed happy. Its home is an ostrich foot shell.
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AuthorMy intention with this page is to highlight one photo from each outing and tell its story in a couple of sentences. The subjects will vary - it will be whatever caught my eye or was most special on that day. Categories |