Star Fish

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When I was a teenager, I spent several summers camping on Catalina Island. After a couple of classes in marine biology at the marine science research center on the Two Harbors side, I can still name sea cucumbers, anemones, and bioluminescent brittle stars. I’m no expert, but I remain (perhaps too) unafraid of searching the water for prizes, looking for clams, crabs, shells, and picking up the abundant starfish. And the beach at Lovers’ Cove, just outside of Fort Myers, is littered with sea life–living and dead (we were informed that dogs love to snack on star fish tentacles).

I fondly recalled out loud to the sun that I once held a star the circumference of a frisbee and placed it as a crown on my head. I was startled as its tube feet adamantly adhered to my sunburnt scalp and long hair.

Yesterday, I spent an hour dipping into the ocean to again stick these echinoderms to my skin. As I was wearing a small one as a ring, I paired one with M’s shirt, naming it, as it curled onto his wrist, Bracelet.

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