Walking at nightfall is great for a few things, capturing photos of a small flock of pelicans near the seawall just before parking to explore the mangrove boardwalk was the first exciting surprise. One quick photo turned into more.

Tonight’s was a much faster walk. Mr nearly 8’s best memory was of running. He ran a lot tonight, over and back, over and back. “It’s the best way to escape the midgies” he said, shaking arms and legs as he bounced in place. I asked him later about midgies. His description: “very annoying, itchy, biting, super-small creatures that treat you like you’re midgie heaven.”

The tide was nearly at its lowest, still running out. Puddles were nearly empty, crabs blended with the mud. The golds of the setting sun faded to dusk and gloom chased us through the mangroves.

These combined with spooky bent branches and intriguing holes sparked a wonderful imaginative walk. At the first turn Mr 6 was exclaiming, “I didn’t know there were ships in the mangroves!”

Cobwebs and seagrass draped a mainmast and yardarms, the decks buried below the mangrove mud.

Mr 6’s best memory was the monster log! Sprawled low in the mud. Limbs askew it’s hollow eyes watched the boardwalk for an unwary walker. The story of how it came to be there narrated by Mr 6. I wish I could remember it all instead of the odd phrase. The sighting of this monster was the first in a series of epic adventures that described several monsters and their habits, each unique to the mangrove habitat. Each adventure more gory and gruesome than the last.

A pair of ducks were tame in comparison.