Near where the goats were happily nibbling away on the breathing roots of some mangrove trees, a canoe lay marooned on the bed of very mucky clay. A very wet zigzag led down to the river, indicating that even this height would be underwater come high-tide. At this time though, it seemed to be improperly placed.
Walking carefully on the raised mud path, I spotted a mudskipper fish below, successfully walking on the mud with its pectoral fins and looking rather muppet-like with its closely-placed beady eyes.
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