fimmtudagur, júní 25, 2009


Did I tell you about the steinbítr? I didn't, did I. Wolffish. Seacat. Anarhichas lupus. Scarborough Woof.

I found the dessicated head of a steinbítur among the corpse-whelks and weed on an olivine and pyroxene beach. There are always interesting things in the weed. What did Sappho say? If you are squeamish, don't poke the beach rubble. Something like that. Once I found the perfect skull of a seabird. I set in on my balcony to dry, but the wind took it away. Even a dead bird flies here.

I carried the head back down the beach. The bergfræðingur, patient with questions, points to its grim teeth. Here and here, for picking its food from the bottom. Here, to crush the shells of mollusks, bolt them whole.

2 ummæli:

Rouchswalwe sagði...

Anarrhichthys ocellatus is also toothy yet toothsome when fried up with chips. Won't catch me calling it "rock salmon" either. Humph.

tristan sagði...

once i found a bunch of coconuts on the high tide line at brighton, another time, a small blue shark

it never occurred to me that i might have cooked them

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