As the sea retreated at low tide they came in swarms and like a massive stampede they roamed the exposed sand.
I could hear the noise they make when their tiny claws; hundreds of them collectively sounded like a swarm of locust.
I lowered myself to a foot above ground and a magical world appeared in front of me.
army of soldier crabs
But as soon as I creep a few feet closer they start to move hastily away from me.
I chase them, I want to observe them close-up.
They can not outrun me but they can hide again, quickly burring themselves into the sand with a funny circular digging motion.
I must have looked like a child running after the micro monsters, camera in hand, hovered a foot above ground. I would get close enough but by the time I would compose my image and focus the lens they would be gone below the surface.
Pesky little soldier crabs: so captivating yet so elusive.
I was camped at my favorite little island in Moreton Bay; in front of me the somehow less attractive stretch of beach to the power boats as they can't access it for being too shallow.
I calmly waited for the evening to come and replace that harsh midday tropical light; ideal time to capture photographs.
Some call it happy hour, I call it golden hour, for different reasons.
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