I fell hard for Tugboat Annie last night. Look at that buttonless cardigan! The hat! Drunk Wallace Beery makes one disastrous decision after another--but before the language of therapy became part of movie plots. And Annie sympathetically/ ferociously steering her tugboat into the storm. 1/2

(Bonus) And it was a glorious morning in the mud.

We found clams of mixed sizes. When a clam flat has only really big clams it usually means it's failing--maybe because green crabs are eating the young clams. Our clams have fragile shells--possibly because we're in an estuary and so the water is a mix of fresh and salty. Anyway, happy clams.(3/3)

There is a protocol for clam sampling that involves digging 1x2 foot holes. We keep track of the position of the holes by using GPS. (The old protocol involved digging dozens of holes at regular intervals. Nobody wanted to do that so we had trouble getting volunteers.) (2/3)

Two weeks ago we went out to take a census of clams early in the morning. To sample this flat, you've got to hit the tide right. Motoring through the thick fog is exciting because even though the vision is muffled sounds are amplified. So everything feels different. 1/3

Well this is unusual. A new hen has popped up from the same tree. But a few weeks later. I haven't seen a second flush like this before.

Chanterelles from "the spot."

This year's hen of the woods. The mushroom eats the tree. We eat the mushroom.