Anemones

I have always liked anemones, even though its one of those words I can't pronounce very well. When I was a kid we always used to go to North Devon for our holiday. The beach (I use the term loosely as it was pretty much sand free) had loads of cool rock pools. And there were all different types of anemones. I remember the big fat red ones that withdrew their tentacles when the tide went out. They made it look like the rocks had boils and were kind of scary. There were also little green ones. When you put your finger in them it tingled as they tried to eat you. I used to smash limpets off the rocks (back before I realised that limpets are people too), cut them up and feed them to the anemones. Years later, one of the best scuba dives I ever did was off St Kilda (out past the outer Hebrides, not the Caribbean). We dropped down this rock wall that was covered in different coloured beadlet anemones. It seemed to go on forever. Fantastic.
Yet despite my fondness for these weird critters I never new much about them. However, today I learn that they are animals not plants. That their mouth is also their arse. That they can walk about (all be it slowly) on their foot, or basal disc. But best of all, if life is getting them down, they inflate and just let go. Just say goodbye Mr rock and see where the tide takes them. How cool is that. Sometimes I dream of doing just that. Just letting go and seeing where the tides take me. But I'm just not brave enough. So I cling to the rocks that are job, mortgage, responsible adulthood.
But I’m gonna go down to Devon this winter. Watch the storms lash the coast, and visit a few rock pools. Just because...