I’m working on a long, whiny, right-now-incomprehensible, post on my stepfather’s recent illness and death, and my mother’s insanity.
But, while I’m doing that I just wanted to take a moment and mention something awesome that happened at Pensacola Beach last week.
I was standing in barely-ankle deep water when one of these came swimming up to me…
………only it was much smaller..I’d say 2-3 ft..a juvenile lemon shark.
Swimming in front of the shark, at a much faster and more frantic pace, was a smaller fish so I knew right away that the shark wasn’t interested in my toes.
At least I hoped he wasn’t.
I watched him swim right towards me, then move off to my left at the last second, missing his target as my wiggling toes distracted him.
Hubby came over by me and Bruce (that’s his name, now and really I think it’s fitting we’re on a first-name basis as he and I are practically BFFs even if I did interrupt his lunch) again swam towards me, this time he wasn’t chasing anything and as he broke off at the last moment we made eye contact.
It was weird, scary, fascinating, and I loved it. Later, I realized that if he’d bitten me not only would Bruce be off the Christmas card list forever, but it would’ve hurt. A. Lot.
But, he didn’t and we shared a moment and now I’m pretty much an expert on juvenile lemon sharks so ask me anything.
Just don’t ask me to go swimming at night off Pensacola Beach. I think Bruce may hold a grudge.