The old crab faced the day blind. Algae grew from her shell and covered her eyes. She hoped either a fish would swim into her outstretched claws or a gull would swoop down and take her away. She was hungry.

I stood next to her. The water, bright with the sun, lapped at my shins. We both faced the darkness of the deep channel as I casted live minnows and hoped for a fish myself. We both hoped, though luck, it seemed, favored neither of us this day.

I reached into my bait bucket, pulled out a belly-up minnow, and touched her open claws with the prize. She clamped down and brought the tiny fish to her mouth with hungry speed. I smiled. Not a minute later, another crab, a third her size, moved in with the caution of a seasoned thief. He plucked the minnow from her claws and headed back to the depths.