I am thinking now, maybe I will envision them as soft, squishy urchins and sea anemones. Anyway, reading of them as transparent reminded me of this poem, which gave me even another image to play with, the clear, transparent stream.
Which now reminds me that with the rain coming down like this, Redwood Creek in Muir Woods is filling, and soon the salmon will swarm upstream to breed. On the solstice, luminaria are placed along the path, and you can enter the woods at night. It is a wondrous way to welcome the return of the light.
And so this poem:
Thoughts
When all thoughts
Are exhausted
I slip into the woods
And
gather
A pile of shepherd's purse.
Like the little stream
Making
its way
Through the mossy crevices
I, too, quietly
Turn clear and
transparent.
-- Ryokan,
translated by John Stevens