Baryonyx, Jack Mayer Wood, 2020The cold beating of the water on the rocks is the only sound of
Baryonyx, Jack Mayer Wood, 2020The cold beating of the water on the rocks is the only sound of the morning, a steady rhythm of heavy crashes and slithering retreats. Baryonyx prowls the edge of the world, seeking fish and crustaceans lost on the rocks or trapped in tide pools. A wave sweeps over its feet, chilling for an instant before it slides back as fast as it came. A fat, short tailed lobster rolls on the pebbles, too long dead to be the dinosaur’s breakfast. Baryonyx leaves the broken, gloppy mass to the flies. Another wave charges, flees, then another. Now a slim body, white as a comet, is left by the foam—a fish, not yet rotten. In a few snaps, the fish is down the dinosaur’s gullet. Another wave moves in, thunders its chorus, and slides away. So it goes until Baryonyx has crossed the length of the beach and moves back into the forests, leaving the waves to speak to themselves. -- source link
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