The retreating spring tide had exposed a shimmering expanse of flat sand, as if a cloth had been drawn back from a polished wooden table. Across the lightly corrugated plain, pools as shallow as dinner plates were laid out, serving up rich pickings for flocks of gulls. Within these stretches of water, numerous small fish had been stranded – silvery juveniles that one generally lumps together under the term “whitebait”.
One of these finger-length fish stood out from the rest. A striking metallic green along the upper side, it would have looked perfectly at home in a tropical aquarium. It was poorly camouflaged against the sandy bottom, so I scooped it up and released it in a larger pool, where seaweed offered somewhere to hide.
