The Squeeze - Republished

Excerpt from Advanced Aquarists Online Magazine:

"With very few exceptions octopuses are phenomenal escape artists, and even a large octopus (some of mine have had a head the size of a large grapefruit and been nearly 3 feet in diameter when spread out) can easily make a home out of a long-neck beer bottle! For a simple rule-of-thumb to suggest to hobbyists, I generally say that if you can stick your pinky finger into a hole, your octopus will be able to crawl through it."

Mare's Tails - Republished

The wind was howling in Malibu today. A eucalyptus tree toppled over and barely missed the house it once shaded. Down by the beach, consecutive gusts created rivers of blowing sand that swept over the ground and erased footprints within its path. Mare's tails were blown in long wisps atop the crest of each wave.

In the early afternoon, there was a low tide, a negative tide of close to two feet. Taking photographs of the tidepools and experimenting with my new camera seemed to be a great idea at the time. Of course, that was before the wind started showing some major attitude.

Although grains of sand sometimes ended up in my eyes and my skin was sometimes abraded by the relentless blasts, pictures were on my mind, and somehow or another I planned on taking those photos. And, I did. And, it was a lesson in futility, especially when attempting to take pictures of wildlife while being blown sideways, backward, forward, you name it.



Was it worth it? Well, it kept me busy for two hours, and it was good exercise. What struck me as odd was that a couple of guys on horseback would ride by the day after I published the post about Apollo. I'm unaccustomed to that sight. Maybe it's a sign. Ha!

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

One of my favorite experiences happened years ago while my husband, Rusty, and I were scuba diving. We both spotted an octopus at about the same time. It was safely tucked into one of the cavities of a small reef outcropping.

As I approached it for a better view, I could see its smooth, velvety flesh, which was rolled loosely into a ball and had a lovely rose-colored hue to it. A few minutes later, having grown tired of me staring at it, it darted out of its cubbyhole in Rusty's direction. As I swam toward Rusty, I lost sight of it. The octopus seemed to have vanished.

I indicated to Rusty that I had no idea where our eight-armed friend had gone. Meanwhile, Rusty pointed emphatically at part of a long reef about three feet away from me. Using my impressive body language, I shrugged my shoulders and lifted my hands, which clearly translated to, "What the heck are you pointing at?"

Rusty did his best octopus impression and pointed again. There, right in front of my eyes, was our tentacled friend, but it wasn't rose-colored anymore. For that matter, only a small ripple of smooth flesh remained underneath as it stretched itself thinly over the reef and disappeared.

Poof! No bells, no whistles, no clouds of dust. Just poof. Color, shape, texture, all transformed within less than a minute. What was smooth became gritty, coarse and bumpy. What was rose-colored was now reef-colored, mostly a shade of white with flecks of gray, brown and green. Its whole body blended seamlessly into the reef and became invisible.

This video gives you the unique opportunity to observe an octopus as it completely changes its color, texture and shape. They're awesome creatures!