Wistfully, Moses thought of the Christmas Island crab migration, which he learned about in school, and which was also an annual event, and which he would strongly prefer to witness than the Blitz of July. He imagined the female crabs, red and sturdy, marching en masse through the darkness to reach a high-tide beach. He learned that each crab carries a hundred thousand eggs that she must deposit into the sea—a treacherous endeavor because she can’t swim. As soon as the eggs touch the water, they hatch, and the female leaves them to fend for themselves. Could you call such a creature a mother?
