This happens all the time.

It starts with the sight of the sail.
It was early one morning as I was disassembling the lobster pots that I happened to glance towards the north-west, and lo, emerging from the mist which perpetually circumvallates the coastal village of Lerekcam-sur-mer, I bespied the said sail of a large and gallant vessel approaching at great speed. I hurried to the quay-side by which time the sail had multiplied by that number which lies between three and five, each sail bearing a strangely mystical and mysteriously compelling motif. It was as the galleon weighed anchor, just beyond the sea-wall, that it became apparent that, together, the sails, combined as one, in unison, depicted the ancient crest of the crustacean commonly named Uca of the fiddler variation. This one being particularly mighty variety. This thus marked the return of wise Captain Nomlas, the unsinkable, from his mighty quest. The Gong of Fleets-Returning I ran to ring, a shanty forming in my mind.

On the sounding of the percussion device, (fashioned from a single metallic source material), a throng of well rehearsed populace agglomerated quay-side, to greet the first. Suddenly all went dark and the villagers fell upon those joints which commonly dwell betwixt ankle and hip, fearing something all-consuming , dooming, dead-lagooning was afoot. High above, where charadriformes circle, loomed the desperate airship of the second, Maurice, Keeper of nets.

Beneath his feet, Stephan felt the ground begin to heave. Stepping back to allow the third, Randolph, to emerge from sub-terrania, astride his turnip-like tunneling device. Leaping from jewel encrusted saddle to crowd amassed, he danced a reel and cried out "Ou est Collin le quatrieme?" Collin L’en Retard arrived later that same day, being the day one might expect to be located before a Saturday, yet no less than two days after the day before a Thursday. His flaming limpet-encrusted Morris Ital, having experienced a light impact and water damage during a channel crossing debacle of a rough persuasion, completed the reunion of the previously hinted at numeric grouping. Each bore a sea-chest in which could be found an envelope. The leading voyagers is bronze. The second voyagers is silver. The third ones is a gold The last ones is that sort of practically indescribable colour, somewhere between yellow and green/blue (you know like the colour of freshly caught salmon but not quite as red). As the seals were broken, the ancient papyrus plan was complete. Collectively gasping in a pike-like manner, the villagers set about their labours as the four approachmen played a haunting madrigal upon that musical apparatus, acquired from West-Bromwich, consisting of chanter, drones and bellows. Within the hour (not specified) all had been completed. Let festivities commence.

Behold The Wicker Lobster.

I am collecting Driftwood, as is my calling. Along the sandy vista, I can see the executive officer (democratically elected, instantly recallable (by no less than a two-thirds majority in the case of purely internal affairs) for the fourteen day period, commencing Wednesday, ending Tuesday week (excepting times of potential arising emergency, upon which an extended duration of twenty one solar cycles (excluding religious and bank holidays) can be applied for (in writing (in triplicate)) giving a minimum of four thousand, three hundred, and twenty minutes prior notice (in brackets))), walking towards the recently constructed, (despite much objection from the neighboring parish council), multi-lane electric highway, stretching out across the water to the stars that light the sky (had it not been that time of day in which visible radiation emitted from a nearby stellar mass predominates).

I can see in his hand, (his left), the Conch shell of Destiny Awakenage. He raises the aforementioned moluscular off-casting and by a process of diaphragmatic expansion/ contraction causes an abrupt exhalation of that predominantly nitrogen/oxygen/carbon dioxide melange most commonly referred to among the great unwashed (scientists) as breath, thus causing molecular vibration to be emitted from the larger of the marine gastropods disused residences two apertures, creating resonance within the audible spectrum.

As I observe this, I observe that the observation is being observed by two other observers other than myself (as primary observer of said observation). Unbeknownst to me at this time, the entire scenario is being observed by an unknown observer who is standing crab-like upon the migmatically stratified cliffs over looking that which, at the present, is being observed, and then overlooked.

From shale to surf, the harmonic oscillations are clearly recognizable (if you know what may be cognitized in ophthalmic confirmation extrapolations such as these), the calling for the long-dead. Among our many lost-ones now abeaching from the large body of dihydrogen oxide of a saline persuasion stand two unknown cosmonauts of eastern European extraction (besuited in a manner which one would expect if one were familiar with such apparel).

My visual receptors (numbering a brace), arranged in a stereoscopic formation (thus facilitating judgment of interspacial relationships) are full of a small but significant body of dihydrogen oxide of a saline persuasion. After this has been removed (by application of a proprietary brand of man-sized recycled reconstituted wood pulp (unbleached)) I fail to observe that the mysterious observer is now being mysterious in his unaccountable departure and subsequent absence.

Derek was a male of his species (that species being human being in it’s being) and in being so, not being so alone, despite being alone. Next to himself, his prized possession was a tome, which was kept by himself and was kept by himself at all times. Whist by himself, this volume and the diagrammatic representations contained within he would interpret (utilizing the guidelines laid down ) and contain this within. Derek would dream of his impending invasion thus laid down within this fishscale bound opuscule.
"This festival of theirs has to be stopped."

Upon observation of a jetsam-line congregation, without hesitation, he set forth for castigation of the indigenous population. On arrival on the expanse of granular particles abutting the oceanic firmament, he stands transfixed, suddenly aware of the all encompassing external termination of the conduit to the visual cortex of the wicker construction in the form of the genus Homaris. Oh what sight he might have sighted within the sight of that ligneous xylo-efigy. So compelled was he that, mounting the rostrum, he ensconced his personage within it’s internal structure. From within he saw without as the people moved nearer and facilitated conflagration of the conglomeration of combustible vegetation without the need for conversation, becoming their oblation..

As the Fish-God walks among them, the people are filled with a joyous, warm, still, safe, comforting penumbra.

This happens all the time.

It starts with the sight of the sail...