Yesterday, our area was blessed with a breath of spring: 50 degree weather, a gentle breeze, and a cloudless sky. Knowing that this weather wouldn’t last for long, my family decided to take advantage of it and go clam digging at my great-uncle’s beach. At low tide, the mud flats are vast and rich in mussels, softshell clams, razor clams, and, most prized, quahogs. Though among the easiest clams to find, some quahogs’ shells contain a rich purple coloration; these quahog shells were extremely valuable to the Native Americans in the area.
Anyway, donning my rainboots and grabbing my clam rake, I followed my parents down the rock floodwall and to the tidal flats. Digging around,we found clams of all varieties. We gathered enough to have a whole supper of steamed clams and make a chowder. I willingly participated, finding several large quahogs, a stubborn razor clam, and picking mussels. I also, to my disgust, unearthed several nests of red, writhing worms that would make wonderful fish bait but nothing much else. Back to quahogs…I found enough quahogs to earn the nickname “Queen of the Quahogs”. Personally, I didn’t think I looked much like a queen, with soaked jeans instead of a gown and a muddy rake for a scepter. Oh well.