Beachcombing

One of the things I do when not working at my job or hammering the keyboard is Beachcombing. Of late there has been a frisson as I make my way to the low water mark. For several weeks, there has been gossip going around the waterfront communities of the RCMP finding human bits washed up on Valdes Island. Three right feet, one of which was wearing trainers have been found. Even the UK press has picked up on it.

The foreshore is a rich place for those with an elephantine streak of curiosity. There's the Starfish, Purple, Bat, Common and Sunflower Stars. The Razor clam and Oyster beds. Sunken trees which act as a magnet for mussels. Various crabs. Empty Lewis Moon Shells as big as the palm of your hand. Massive logs get washed up after storms, even bits of a careless Deer that has fallen into the water and drowned. So far, no human bits.

Then again, Valdes is only ten or so miles away, so who knows what the spring storms will dredge from the depths?