tempus fugit

By ceridwen

The mussel grounds

Mid-afternoon on a fine but chilly day with the sinking sun turning hazy. The tide is approaching its lowest ebb in Lower Fishguard harbour, leaving a few of the outer moorings high, if not dry. The end of the quay can be seen straight ahead where a concrete ramp slants down to the water. The inner section of the harbour is hidden from view but part of the town is just visible above.

The dog and I have come to collect mussels which are to be found clustered thickly on the rocks exposed by the low tide. Here, Casey waits for me to start descending from this headland into the bay, a short cut which saves walking around by road. Few local people seem to share my passion for this sort of foraging, perhaps because the sea here was not always as clean as it is now, but there's little to fear and a great deal of satisfaction to be had from going home with a good haul of shellfish.

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