The closer it gets to the full moon, the higher the water is. Sometimes it laps over the high-water ridge, where the sand starts its slope down into the surf. This is when the clams are happiest of all, I’m told. Surfers too. Then at other times, you have to walk for yards and yards …
BeachAlert File #3
The tightly-packed, fine-grained sand was shiny in the wash of the surf and the light of the rising sun. You could see the reflection of the clouds. They looked like little white lambs moseying across the blue sky. Do lambs mosey? Never mind. I digress. Let’s go talk to the happy little clams, okay? We’ll …