Big, small, square, or round you’ll see me bundled up and drying in fields, awaiting my task. I feed the beasts of burden, a domesticated bunch, throughout the winter as their lunch.

I am a pretty sweet spread, with toast and pastries being my best friends. I’m made of fruit, and thickened to perfection, living in a glass house until your morning confection.

Where heron gulls fly and young fish come and thrive, I’m a bountiful place, offering safe haven. Here dune grass grows, and the tidal channels snake, a river meeting the oceans wake.

I am a dusty, gaseous nursery, seeping my tendrils into space. I am observed birthing stars from my grace. Hydrogen and helium are my companions, the remains of dead titans making up my heart.

I’m a real bottom feeder, with a rather fine tail, and very hard skin. Though I lack a spine, I’m no coward! I’m a hardy soul who regenerates limbs lost in the battle of life. Though I am closely related to my cousins, I am not crabby.