The way it worked out was this: on the most recent trip to the low tide line, when I found all those six-armed and mottled stars, I waded as close as I could to the border marker. Couldn't get quite there; the water would have been up to my waist, and I wasn't dressed for that.
But I stopped there to take photos of an eagle, and then a pair of eagles perched on the top of the marker.
|Two eagles. He seems to be doing some sort of dance.|
They sang a duet for a while, him squealing and her burbling, while I tried to find solid footing underwater to get a good shot. I gave up and backed off, to take a photo of the whole marker with the reflections in the water.
|Striped zones: watermarks, bare cement, barnacles, and a layer of seaweed, then the shelf. Then the whole thing reverses in the water.|
At home, I had other photos to sort, and too much to do; the eagles got set aside and forgotten. It wasn't until tonight, cleaning up the recent files, that I saw the starfish.
|Do you see them? Look on the right-hand end of the shelf for a pile, and then scan left.|
From here, they look healthy enough; properly spread out, wearing all their arms. There's even at least one young one, just under the ladder.
This makes me happy.
As I trudged back towards the distant shore, one of the eagles passed me, in a hurry.
|Things to do, errands to run, chocolates (or fish) to get for her ...|