Sand Dollar Beach, Isla Magdalena, B.C.S.
No one gave it much thought, probably, that while they slept last night other creatures were out and about upon moonlight flooded dunes (mouse tracks in sand pictured). Likewise, it may not have occurred to anyone that our first outing at Sand Dollar Beach might be as much a time travel exercise as a traipse through shifting sands to the Pacific Ocean. We had yet to make the acquaintance of hardy dune plants, such as sand verbena and locoweed, before we departed the ship by Zodiac. We had not yet followed mysterious trails winding between hummock and plain far enough for them to yield their secrets. And the shimmering desert peaks on the sand dune horizon were not a part of our mental vocabulary before someone traced a map of the bay in the sand for us.
Even once we landed on the bay side of Sand Dollar Beach, stepping off in our first of many wet landings to come, it was still too early to imagine the transitory nature, nay, the dynamic duality, of a habitat that is constantly in motion under the force of wind and wave. No one had yet traced their ephemeral name in the sand with the fine-point tip of a red mangrove propagule, nor watched come-and-go-ants excavating their burrow one sand grain at a time. It was before black-tailed jackrabbits had erupted from the shady side of boxthorn bushes (scaring the beejeebers out of us) and scooted in and out of view on their way away. The mysterious piles of scallop, murex and cockleshells were still an unexplored mystery (and remain mysterious, despite our exploration) and the cold-blooded lizards were not yet warm enough to leave their embroidered tracks in the fine sand…
All this is how it was when we got up this morning.
No one gave it much thought, probably, that while they slept last night other creatures were out and about upon moonlight flooded dunes (mouse tracks in sand pictured). Likewise, it may not have occurred to anyone that our first outing at Sand Dollar Beach might be as much a time travel exercise as a traipse through shifting sands to the Pacific Ocean. We had yet to make the acquaintance of hardy dune plants, such as sand verbena and locoweed, before we departed the ship by Zodiac. We had not yet followed mysterious trails winding between hummock and plain far enough for them to yield their secrets. And the shimmering desert peaks on the sand dune horizon were not a part of our mental vocabulary before someone traced a map of the bay in the sand for us.
Even once we landed on the bay side of Sand Dollar Beach, stepping off in our first of many wet landings to come, it was still too early to imagine the transitory nature, nay, the dynamic duality, of a habitat that is constantly in motion under the force of wind and wave. No one had yet traced their ephemeral name in the sand with the fine-point tip of a red mangrove propagule, nor watched come-and-go-ants excavating their burrow one sand grain at a time. It was before black-tailed jackrabbits had erupted from the shady side of boxthorn bushes (scaring the beejeebers out of us) and scooted in and out of view on their way away. The mysterious piles of scallop, murex and cockleshells were still an unexplored mystery (and remain mysterious, despite our exploration) and the cold-blooded lizards were not yet warm enough to leave their embroidered tracks in the fine sand…
All this is how it was when we got up this morning.
