Beadnell Beach, Northumberland: There weren’t many people, but there was a prowling heron, darting shrimps, hiding blennies …
Finally, we arrived at the beach. It looked empty. We trudged down the sandy path, over a thick, crunchy ribbon of dried seaweed. Flies crawled over the hot heap and a decayed fish head peeked out. I could smell the seaweed and taste the salty air that licked my face. A shiver of excitement ran down my spine as my toes touched the cold, damp sand.
In the distance I heard the low chatter of a cormorant sunning itself on a rock. A little while later, a heron parachuted down to the shallow water. He prowled the pool looking for a tasty morsel. He stabbed it with his dagger-like bill. With a shake of his plume and a gulp, the fish was gone. Above, a tern hovered, waiting to drop like a stone.
In a rockpool, I watched the shrimps dart between pillows of bladderwrack. Out peeked hermit crabs from their borrowed shells. A blenny swam by and hid under a ledge. Beadlet anemones waved under the water waiting to sting their prey. The anemones above the waterline had retracted their tentacles to reduce their surface area. They looked like red chestnuts.
I pulled out my net and thought I had caught a piece of black seaweed. It curled up in a ball. I gently placed it back and saw it unfurl. I saw its rabbit like ears and at once knew it was a sea hare. The beach was far from empty!
Source: The Guardian
