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Saturday means good weather, no work and a minus tide that's not quite minus tide enough for me to squeeze between two cliffs usually separated by deep ocean water. So instead of an easy route, entailing a little jog down the sandy beach, I hiked up and over the cliffs on a familiar deer trail which is usually easy (if steep). Except I hadn't counted on the sudden upsurge of plant growth over the last few weeks.
The trail was thickly overgrown with a yet unidentified Oregon plant that sends out little shoots and tendrils. These squirm around until they find another plant (preferably one across the trail from the first plant). The tendrils loop themselves around a bit of branch or twig or leaf, firm and fast, and hold on for dear God and country until a mean hiker comes crashing through and pulls them apart. Which is, more or less, what I did for about two miles of deer trail, barefoot and at 8:30 in the morning. Then I fell, I mean...gracefully slid down a sandy cliff side and got my bum and hands all dirty and discovered THIS:
If there were money in maggots...see how it's just seeeeeeething.
I feel you're not appreciating this enough.
Nom nom nom nom.
See how that maggot (right down there) is all mouth agape? "Flesh! More more more!" It's like the Sarlacc Pit.
I had to get very very close to snap these photos. I love whatever misfiring in my brain caused me to be a journalist and approach so many things in life with a sick desire to KNOW and EXPERIENCE rather than be "emotionally involved with or about." This causes problems in other areas in my life, but currently it enables me to hunt up horse carcasses, take pictures of maggots and try to talk my way into a trip to a morgue.
Did I mention today was exquisite? I offer proof and maggot-less photos
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