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... ssed south, the land falling away to salt marshes fringed by mangroves that arched overhead like protective fingers, their roots drinking deep from tides that rose and fell with the moon’s whim.
It was a sanctuary of sorts, this salted stretch—crabs scuttling through the shallows like tiny sentinels, egrets standing sentinel on stilt-legs, the air thick with the tang of mangrove honey and tidal bloom, a place where sea and soil compromised in quiet coexistence.
After the estuary’ ...
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