Jude Marcus was born fifteen years ago this day on a 106 degree day in Tucson, AZ. The nurse stuffed her gloved fingers in his mouth as he was entering this world in an attempt to stop him from taking his first breath and inhaling the mecomium fluid he had been swimming in for the 24 hours of my labor with him. Little-One-Second-Old Jude succeeded in biting her so hard the nurse retracted her fingers with a screech, and Jude sounded his newborn barbaric yawp, laughing in the face of aspiration and nurse-meddling.
Things haven't changed.
Oh my Jude. We took these pictures during low tide last week when the Gulf was completely flat, and noobs that we are to this beach life, we are simultaneously fascinated by and ignorant of the habits of the ways of the water.
Is this normal? We have been in the Gulf plenty of times over the last seven years and I have never seen a live seastar or sand dollar, let alone dozens of them, and live whelks, and the mysteriously beautiful moon snail.
Maybe it is that this is a barrier island? Or the time of year, or that this abundance of catchable life comes every thirteen years? Who knows. We don't, but we are having a great time finding out.
And seeing how many we can balance on our heads.