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'The grey mud creeps up my calves as I pick my way through the mangroves. Barefoot, the thick wetness moves between my toes, suctioning, slowing my movements down, and my thighs sting a little from the walk in the mangroves, something my body isn't used to. I pause for breath, look over to my sister and see she is concentrating on the ground, walking on a drier bit of the mangrove floor, harder and more solid. She bends down and with a so" cry, picks up a crab and chucks him into the white plastic tub she is holding.' (Introduction)
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Last amended 10 Jan 2019 09:27:52
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