Page 152 - Just Deserts

Playa de los Borregos

“There’s one!” Gloria Mundy waved one arm and pointed at the
tide pool at her feet with the other. “Come take a look!”
The half-dozen or so participants in the Clearview City College
nature walk scrambled along the path toward their leader. It was early
morning, the best time to see small creatures going about their
business in the Playa.
“What is it?” A portly woman in full field gear peered through
thick spectacles at the tiny marine creature cruising lazily at the
bottom of the pool.
“Oh, a bottom feeder, doing its part in the food chain. Looks like
rictus coprophagus. One of the few indigenous species to be found
here. You have to get here during spring tide, of course, or you won’t
see them; that’s how we scheduled this tour. Any other time of the
month the waves won’t replenish the pools and nothing can live in
them but mosquitoes. Reminds of the fight we had to get this area
preserved.”
Sensing a story, a young man piped up: “You mean when the
government was trying to give it away to the developers? What
happened?”
Mundy glanced at the eager faces and judged that their attention
could not be shifted back to the geography and biology of the place
without first gratifying their need for gossip. “Okay. I’ll tell you about
it as we walk over to that grassy hummock where the bird just flew
off. Please stay on the path unless I indicate otherwise.”
The motley group of bird watchers and nature-lovers tried to keep
pace with Ms. Mundy as she strode purposefully toward their goal.
“You may recall that the Clearview Conservancy had mounted a
rather feeble campaign against the powerful interests seeking to
destroy Playa de los Borregos. I was involved in that movement, and
it was appalling to witness the resources being marshalled against us.
In filing their environmental impact reports, the developers managed
to twist the facts around to make it look like this was a totally barren,
useless part of the coastline. Like having their so-called experts come
around here at times of day and in seasons when most of the life here
is dormant, migrating or out at sea. And our city fathers had hung up
their stockings with care by the bed, while visions of kickbacks
danced in their heads.”
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