Boundary Bay

Today Grammy, Nico, TM and the weasels all set off in the Subaru for a trip to the beach at Boundry Bay, BC, near the Washington border. After passing the airport, the land turned flat, with the mountains way off in the distance, barely visible through a light haze. We followed the highway, long and flat through wide open agricultural land, then turned off the main highway, passing blueberry fields heading towards the ferry station that takes travelers to Vancouver Island. I'm not sure what I was expecting as far as a "beach" (hey, I'm a Cali girl) but I suppose I had imagined something along the lines of what I remember from the Oregon and Washington coasts- lush forests falling into the Pacific. I knew that Vancouver was not directly ON the Pacific, but couldn't remember where exactly it was related to the coastal islands that really make up the western part of BC.
We parked in a large dirt lot, and wandered out to the dusty beach. The sand was fine and brownish, partly dirt and partly dust from bonfires mixed into the sand. But the strangest part was that at the edge of the "beach" or sandy area, was a great expanse of mudflat, almost as far as you could see. And not a tree in sight. I could barely make out the grayish ocean far far out beyond the flats. I'd never seen a beach like this before. Marcia said it reminded her of beaches back east, where they spent afternoons digging for clams, and cooking them right on the beach. The kids were excited to be out of the car and into open space, with sand between their toes. I stayed behind with our things while Nico and Marcia wandered down to the shallow water that collected in little "lakes" along the flats. I could see the kids splashing and digging. Digging, everyone digging, bent over, pointing at the mud, pants rolled up to their knees, pails and shovels in their hands. The kids had the pails and shovels that Marcia bought for them before our arrival. Eventually, Marcia came back to relieve me, and I set off for the horizon where I last saw Zoe and Nico and Julian. I waded through the first lake, the water only to just below my knees. Then out to the next flat. The water was warm, and the packed mud felt strange beneath my feet. Like I should've been wearing shoes- I mean, God only knows what bacteria or hooked and barbed microscopic creatures might be lurking in that primordial ooze. But I tried not to think about emergency room visits, and just enjoyed the natural and strange beauty of the area. In the shin deep water was acres of eel grass, and tiny cone snails, flat clam shells, and some weird gook that looked like a cross between algae and some creature's egg sack. I had to scan the flat horizon over and over to find my peeps among the many other folks who were spending the bank holiday at the Beach (BC Day). When I found them, they were sandy and wet, bent over the piles of muddy sand they had dredged with their shovels. Zoe was gleefully inspecting her pile for clams and creatures, and continued with the construction of her "castle". Nico took Mister back to the sandy shore and I stayed with Zoe, digging and digging, turning over the sandy muck to find little treasures of clams. Regular clams, and flattish looking clams. And tiny cone snails among the eel grass. I was fascinated. Zoe and I watched as I rinsed the little creatures, and set them next to the hole we were excavating to marvel at their shells, and the way they magically seemed to "dig" their way back into the sand- like in slow motion before our eyes. When I looked out to the horizon, the ocean seemed as far away as it did from the beach, almost farther. And we had walked so far. I tried to take Zoe to the ocean, drawn as I am to the edge, but you know Zoe- she flatly refused; dug in her heels. So we buried our clams, putting them "back to bed" where they belonged, and headed to shore. We passed little old Asian ladies, filling their buckets and plastic bags with their bounty of clams. Were they unable to read the signs explaining not to eat the clams? "Not for human consumption", something about bivalve viruses or some sort. Enough to keep them out of my mouth for sure.