The Day the Grunions Came.

We camped out early. Several hours earlier, in fact. In our car trunk housed equipment that would be used to capture and house several dozen fishes. We sat along the coast, waiting under the moonlight for them to come. Each indistinguishable wave signified the soon arrival of the grunions. The team was fatigued from the wait, but would not let down their guard. A young boy ran to the coast with a net and stabbed it towards the ground. He then lifted it up, and his face suddenly changed expression. We then knew it was time.

Everyone sitting ran to the waters with nets, pots, pans, and buckets. The grunions had arrived and everyone was going to take home dozens, maybe hundreds. The tides suddenly illuminated with a silvery glow. It was the grunion's scales reflecting off the moonlight. The tide hit the shore and all over the coast, there were grunions. People dived and ran. Back and forth, each wave of grunion army attacked. There were thousands, perhaps even millions. It was the battle to end all battles. It was a battle that was greater than D-Day. It was even more dramatic than the helms deep scene in Lord of the Rings. People were on the ground, wrestling 5 inch grunions and trying to bring them to their buckets. Others were midair, diving for that one retreating grunion. Waves upon waves of grunions attacked, each growing in numbers. The battle lasted on for hours, but at last the glistening sunlight shined over the eastern horizon. The grunions had retreated. Everyone shouted in victory as they took home their share of the defeated grunion army. The world would live to see another day. Mankind will remain the dominant species.

Alright, the last paragraph was a little exaggerated. Okay REALLY exaggerated, but that was the scenario I was expecting hours prior to the run. No grunions were harm. Heck there weren't even any. Well, unless you count the dozens that the neighboring group of people caught. What a failure. Sadly, the grunions would not come (no pun intended).