Day 13: Nighttime crab hunting

I don't read a great deal of poetry.  Tyler and I have two books of poems that we love: The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart and The Soul is Here for it's Own Joy (both of these books made it on the boat by the way).  Neither of those anthologies have many (if any) poems about the ocean.  I am sure there are several anthologies of poems and prose about the ocean, however.  Walking along the beach with Cyrus, Tyler and Zander tonight, I completely understand why.  I wanted to write something poetic and moving about the ocean in the blog tonight.  Somehow the ocean is completely different at night.  It is magical and terrifying at the same time.  I will not subject you to amateur poetry at this time...
Our crab hunt was a failure as a crab hunt- it was an amazing conclusion to the day though.  Zander (on the beach illegally- but who's going to notice on a Sunday night?) was in doggie heaven- able to run off of his leash and chase random birds, Cyrus was in kid heaven- sprinting through the tide and making sand angels, and Tyler and I were in our happy place- walking in the moonlight with a glass of wine.  We could all get used to this.  I could handle doing this until it becomes mundane.

Sand Angel