Ducking the rain with a giant anteater and other secrets

I was a bit shocked after reading that Meg Wolitzer told a New York Times reporter about her precious Sundays writing fiction in the New York Society Library.  Back when I lived in the city, the library was a carefully guarded oasis.  It’s where I wrote my best shipping stories for Brandon’s — $75. a year to secure both serenity and delicious company.  And it was something you kept to yourself — in those pre-FB days when you didn’t tell!

Privacy issues aside, I’m really glad that the “don’t tell’ policy is enthusiastically disregarded in the sometimes gentle waters of the Pacific.  Without my snorkel mask on, and as a life-long devotee of the inverted breast stroke: it’s easy to understand that my ability to spot underwater creatures is quite pathetic.  Which is why I’m indebted to all the friendly explorers who share their finds…  Their generous sea turtle alerts opened my eyes again and again to marine company that might otherwise have glided on without me — “Oh, there he is  — I see him now!”

Last week, a swimmer half my age pointed below the waves — and when I couldn’t see anything,  he slipped his polarized sunglasses over my ears  just in time for us both to watch the amphibian poke his head up for air.   Every good turn deserves another — and so, back on shore,  I told him about the little-known giant anteater who lives in the Hilo zoo.  And in a motherly pitch,  I suggested he bring rain gear when he navigates the rain forest trails in search of a creature that relishes anonymity — except when —

www.nysoclib.org/

www.livestrong.com/article/339974-how-to-do-the-inverted-breast-stroke/

www.hilozoo.com/interactive_map.php