Today was far too pleasant to spend in writing. The Pooch Pack strongly agreed with this conclusion. I was going to join R and her dad on our beach, but they wimped out and drove to one that could be reached by car instead. Down the path Pack and I went, and I had a lovely swim, run and walk in perfect windless and sunny conditions.
On the way back, I found a little eel stranded high and dry not far from the only group of fishermen for miles. I picked it up and felt a faint wiggle, so I rushed it back to the water where, after I had slooshed it back and forth a bit, it swam off happily. Then I went to have a discussion with the fishermen on the subject of ecology and proper conduct. It wasn’t them, of course. It had been someone else. They couldn’t answer why they hadn’t saved it then, though.
After return, I was just in time to put on uniform and go for a Community Policing patrol. It was decided to follow up on a burglary that had occurred last night. The modus operandi has become known, and it was suspected that the perpetrators hadn’t had transport, but would have hidden the loot in nearby dune forest for later collection. This suspicion proved correct. We found an electric mower, two ladders, an extension cord reel, and a crash helmet.
Still missing was a small motor scooter, and I decided to start another search in the dune forest at the far end of the area, watching for routes where it might be feasible to wheel such a thing. I followed one possible trail until it came to a dead end. At that point, alongside me, I observed a tiny bit of handlebar sticking out from where the scooter had been concealed in undergrowth, and I wheeled it back triumphantly to join the other recovered items.
Unfortunately there isn’t the manpower available to do a stakeout on the area, but I hope the disappearance of all the loot will allow a certain message to get across.
Now, I suppose I should get back to the novel. *sigh*
© March 2011 Colonialist (Letterdash/Word/Press)