the Snag

This tree fell over in the water, its roots now skyward, reaching branchlike, sideways.

I am drawn to it, to its shadows in the bright sunlight. I sense life lurks here, making a home, finding shelter.

I see tiny crabs, red in the sun, blue claws visible even in the darkness. They scramble about, peeking out, scampering back, always one jump from invisible.

Fish school about, the tiny ones and the medium sized ones and the big ones with black tips on their seemingly clear bodies. Turning this way and that way, almost invisible in the water, staying close and always circling just out of reach.

Birds perch in its root branches, surveying the water, keeping one eye on the beach, hopping about as the little boats ferry guests and the jet skis bring the staff to work.

Strangest of all is the broken off part of a sea creature, trapped in the branches, bleaching in the sun. At first I thought maybe a sword from a swordfish but it’s all teeth and jagged. The sawfish left its weapon here, no one knows why. Disarmed and disappeared the sawfish left its saw, only it remains, awkwardly stuck on the roots.

Was it there before the storm uprooted the tree? Or did it happen once the roots were pointing skyward, a leap into the wrong place ending badly. A deep dive gone wrong. Trapped forever in the tangle. Or was it placed there by someone, imperfect trophy rejected or shared, left for others to appreciate what didn’t make the cut for sale, for profit.

Only the tree knows, its head in the sand, roots waving goodbye as the last boat leaves for the sunset ride home. Even the band is dispersed, the drinks sparse, the guests sleepy as the boat crests the waves and the water splashes everything.