Dropped off

Today I was walking along one of my favorite beaches when I nearly tripped over an unusual item of interest. A six-rayed— not five— ochre sea star, high up on the tideline, 20 feet from the waves, and miles from any intertidal rocks. I picked it up and— excited to find it still alive— carried it to the waves and let it down easy. With the next wave it was out to sea. I doubt it lives right there and kind of doubt it will survive long beside an open beach with virtually no life in the intertidal zone. For one thing this beach has no mussels, the sea star’s favorite munchies. And without rocks, what would the star cling to, whenever the tide rushed in and out? When I got home I checked the ochre sea star population map, and none had been recorded anywhere close by. I wondered if seabirds had peeled it off a rock and carried it for miles and dropped it in sand, possibly in a food fight with other gulls (but then, why not finish the job?) Or, I thought, maybe Labor Day tourists had picked it up at a different beach and later decided against adopting the animal. You never know. Maybe their kindergartner had found the cool sea star in Trinidad or Petrolia or even the Bay Area and smuggled it into the family van in the ice chest, and the star, a bit worse for wear being jostled and feeling carsick during its first road trip, was only discovered by parents when someone wanted a cold one and the star was unceremoniously dropped off at the next available pit stop.