Dear Graham,
This afternoon gave us one of those moments I wish I could bottle up and save for you. We were driving down a dusty road on our way to explore a new beach and try out our new boogie boards. The sun was still high, the air warm and salty, and everything felt ordinary—until suddenly it didn’t.
All at once, the road came alive. Hundreds of Halloween crabs—bright orange, purple, and red—quick and determined, scuttling across the road and along its edges before disappearing into the thick jungle beside us. It felt as though we had stumbled into a secret.
What made it even more surprising is that several days ago we had seen two or three of these crabs on the beach at Destiladeros. I remember wondering why we never saw them again. Every day on our beach walks I would look for them. Where were they all hiding? Well, today we got our answer. It turns out these crabs have a life far more adventurous than it first appears. Even though we spotted them at the beach, they don’t actually live there. Most of their lives are spent inland, tucked away in burrows in the forest, sometimes far from the ocean. The beach is only one stop in their story—an important one, but temporary. Every so often, usually when the rains come and the air grows heavy with humidity, the crabs begin a kind of migration. In huge numbers, they leave their hidden homes and move together—sometimes all at once—either toward the ocean or back into the forest after visiting it. Their timing is so precise that it can even be influenced by the moon.
When we saw just a couple on the beach before, we were probably catching the tail end—of something much bigger. The main event likely happened quickly, maybe even overnight, easy to miss if you weren’t there at exactly the right moment.
But today, Graham, we were there at exactly the right moment.
Seeing hundreds of them crossing the road felt a little like watching a living river flow past us. They moved with purpose, each one seeming to know exactly where it needed to go, even if we didn’t. Maybe they had already visited the ocean and were heading back home. Or maybe they were gathering for the next stage of their journey. Either way, we were lucky enough to witness it.
At one point along the road, we came upon a mango tree heavy with fallen fruit—dozens and dozens of mangoes scattered across the ground, stained gold, red, and green. Some of the Halloween crabs had stopped right in the middle of the road to gorge themselves on the fruit. It was a true mango feast. Here in Pedasi, during the rainy season, people sometimes talk about “crab highways”—roads temporarily taken over by these tiny travelers as they move between the forest and the sea. It’s one of those natural events that feels both ordinary and magical at the same time.
I hope one day you get to see something like this yourself—not just the crabs, but that feeling of surprise, of realizing the world is busier, wilder, and more connected than you imagined.
Love,
CC
