When Husby's family took a trip to the ocean, they had all sorts of . . . experiences.
As told by Grant Tolley
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| Grant, age 3. Jelly Fish rescuer. And cutie. |
It was a blob.
A blob of jelly-like substance, trailing long streamers and lying inert on the dark, sandy shore.
We stared at it. Walked around it. One of my brothers touched it with a tentative toe.
Yep. Blob.
The rest of my family soon lost interest and walked away. I squatted down and continued to study the strange . . . thing.
We were children of the prairies and knew, intimately, the frogs, snakes, minnows and other creatures that inhabited our little river. But here, facing the great and awesome expanse labeled 'ocean', we were . . . out of our depth (pun intended).
And this? This was something new. Something unheard of. Something mysterious.
I think it was a jelly fish, but, somehow, admitting that takes away the magic.
I continued to study it.
It didn't move. Probably a good thing, considering that it was roughly the size of a chicken.
I narrowed my eyes. Something about the creature was wrong.
Oh, I might be from the prairies, but, believe me, I know when something is out of place. And that jelly fish was definitely out of place.
Somehow, in my mind, I could picture it . . . floating happily.
That's it! Floating!
I was a genius!
All I needed to do was to somehow get this creature back into the water where it belonged.
I walked around it again. Maybe I could pick it up . . .
I reached out. Then stopped and looked at my hands. Then back at it.
No. That didn't seem right.
Another circuit.
I had it!
I would find something to lift it as unobtrusively (and yes, that is a word) as possible and send it home.
I ran up and down the beach, and finally spotted a worthy tool for the job at hand. A long plank, weathered and beaten by the waves.
I drug it across the sand and carefully maneuvered one end of it underneath my . . . erm . . . blob.
Gently, I slid it further and further, careful not to jar or disturb my stranded friend.
Finally, I had pushed it completely underneath.
I was ready.
Carefully, I lifted the plank.
With . . . most . . . of the jelly fish aboard.
In horror, I watched the strange creature disintegrate.
I mean, I've heard of going to pieces, but this thing really did.
Imagine trying to lift a blob of jello with a board.
Soft jello, like my Mom makes. Not the concrete kind that they serve in restaurants.
You get the picture.
This was worse.
It left it's legs and arms and a good portion of the rest of it on the sand.
Umm . . . Ick.
Panicked, I swung my board and threw the portion I had managed to collect into the water.
The rest, I abandoned.
What would be the point?
I'm pretty sure both halves were dead.
Or at least very, very ill.
Who is it that says that no good deed goes unpunished?
They were right.
I always love to watch them at the aquarium under the lights, but they have a nasty sting as my hubby can attest. (Rena)
ReplyDeleteEeeeuw. I learned the hard way that 'blue bottles' our most common jellyfish should be left alone. They still sometimes sneak in a bite/sting.
ReplyDeleteUgh. They're such strange creatures, but your heart was in the right place. Yes, that jellyfish was most "sincerely dead" to quote the Wizard of Oz.
ReplyDeleteWell, you tried! And really wanted to succeed! Both quite important indications of good character :)
ReplyDeleteThat photo reminds me of pictures of my brother at probably the same time period - hair slicked to one side, bright shiny face - cute as a button!
How i hate seeing stranded sea creatures on the sand. That was very kind to make the attempt.
ReplyDeleteDiane, you have a way with words. This was a delicious read. From growing up by the seaside I have seen these poor strande creatures often. I always threw them back in using my hands - still do to be honest. But that one seems to have been a king of jelly blobs.
ReplyDelete