On any given day, Paradise Cove looks like a seafood supper gone mad. Dozens of empty crab shells, disjointed crab claws, hollowed out lobster tails litter the beach. It's the work of our neighborhood pinipeds, hunting and munching just offshore.
Things looked a little different today. The California spiny lobster at the edge of the surf line was intact, for one thing. And it was waving its antennae. Alive.
These guys are nocturnal and, this being autumn, are beginning their migration to deeper water. So, ignoring the Prime Directive (sorry, Mr. Spock), I nudged him into the surf and he crawled off.