Breakwater, inhabited

Walking along the shore, I set myself goals; I'll walk to that interesting stump in the distance, then turn back. Or, it's time to head home, but I'll walk to that erratic, then turn back. Often, I get to my goal, see something else interesting ahead, and keep on going; just to that next huge log, then it's time to go, I tell myself.

The other day, my third goal was the breakwater at the south end of Miracle Beach.

Formed concrete blocks.

I was intrigued by these blocks. Most of our breakwaters are made of huge natural rocks, of which we have no shortage. It's a rocky island we live on. These looked like pieces of some giant's board game, smooth to begin with, now eroded and barnacled. I stopped to examine them.

Each one is a fat X.

They're not as durable as our native rock; the edges are chipped and gouged, probably by storm-driven logs. And on the undersides and protected areas, the mussels have settled in.

Mussels, barnacles, limpets, and a snail or two. Nothing moving; no crabs or hermits.

Looking over the photos later, I noticed the little guy waving at me:

See him? On the leading edge, at the left. Looks like he's fishing. Or collecting seaweed.

One of the Wee Free Men, although he's not blue. Maybe the woad washed off.

There was another, on the fourth playing piece of the top row: I cropped him from the original photo and moved him up to join the fisherman. He's at the top right.