Saturday morning, we awoke to sun and warmth. For fun and food, we went clam digging with my parents. It was the first time for my kids, 6 and 8, to experience this Maritime activity. Although I don't care for them myself, it's a fun thing to do on a hot summer day, and I was anxious to watch my children catch their supper.
As soon as he knew what to do, my son was running all over the sand bars looking for the telltale holes in the sand. He plunged that shovel in enthusiastically, and ran his fingers through the muck looking for his catch. My daughter became the washer, rushing out to rinse the clams as they were found. Between us, we filled a bucket, and my son in particular looked forward to dipping steamed clams in the buttery juice for supper.
Ahead of the tide, we carried our tools and buckets back to shore. Along the way, we passed a pair of men who asked if the clams were good to eat. We replied that the beach had been full of clam diggers, so they must. Turns out, though, that these men had seen a sign saying it was prohibited to take them.
Upon return to the parking lot, we searched for the sign, having not noticed one. Sure enough, way at the end of the fence, one tiny red sign said just that. It turned out that there was a possibility of bacteria in the clams. Not wanting to take a chance, we freed our supper into the salty water.
My son, upon discovering that he was not having clams for supper, threw up his arms and shouted, "Why are they there if we can't have them?"
Good question!
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