Looking outside on this wonderfully bright Monday afternoon, it is almost impossible to believe that a tropical storm hit us yesterday. We were fortunate enough to be on the outskirts of the storm, and thus suffered minimal damage compared to those who were hit head on by Hurricane Irene. Hurricanes are few and far between in the Northeast, due to cold ocean waters that weaken storms. Though Irene was downgraded to a tropical storm before it reached us, the storm caused many power outages, floods, and other damage in my home state. Thankfully, the only damage at my house consisted of a fallen tree and some broken branches.
Despite the gusting winds and torrential rain, I was still able to engage in my favorite end-of-summer tradition: cherry picking. During the storm, my father, brother, sister, and I, clad in full rain regalia, went outside and picked sour cherries off of the three trees in our yard. In the coming days we will make juice from the harvest.
On Friday, prior to hurricane hysteria, my family and I enjoyed our last day at the beach. While I was catching up on classic literature*, my brother caught a hermit crab. Lugging his purple bucket up to where I sat, my brother showed me a shell that was about six inches in length, and three inches at its widest point. The shell was covered in barnacles and even had a few sea snails hitching a ride. Its inhabitant was no less impressive. After I had been peering eagerly into the bucket for several minutes, the biggest hermit crab I have ever seen poked out of his shell. With its body fully extended out of its shell and antennae flicking about, I was endeared to the creature. It was then that I decided to call it Francisco.
I’ve always had a soft spot for hermit crabs. In preschool, I used to love having Shelley the Hermit Crab crawl on my outstretched palm. Granted, Shelley’s shell was an inch cubed in size, and her smooth white and orange shell was unencumbered by barnacles, unlike the marred shell of her oceanic cousin. Nevertheless, in watching Francisco I was reminded of our old class pet, and my fondness for Shelley transferred to this new hermit crab. Having spent hours watching Shelley trapped in her tank, I pitied Francisco for being confined to our bucket. After a few more minutes of reminiscing, I released Francisco to the ocean where he belongs.
*I hadn’t yet read To Kill a Mockingbird, finally rectified this week.
Firsts this week:
- Hurricane Irene
- Found and released a hermit crab named Francisco
- Finished To Kill a Mockingbird