Last weekend, we finally realized a long-held ambition: to explore the Firth of Forth, which we often traverse by train but seldom see at close range. The train bridge is a very long way up in the air.
To get to the island, you cross a causeway. The causeway is submerged for about six hours between tides, and every now and again people get trapped out there and have to be “rescued” by the coast guard. (I was surprised the coast guard bothers. But I suppose leaving people on a small island for six hours would not really be considered a nice thing to do, even if they did bring it on themselves.) We, of course, were needlessly cautious and were well off the causeway before the tide came in. Of course, I did go back on the causeway to meet the incoming tide, but that’s another matter entirely.
The second and third Forth Bridges.
Yes, I see you.
I got to paddle in the ocean for the first time in a long while. The bit near the shore was less muddy than I feared, being quite sandy. I gave up on the idea of going past my knees when I suddenly sank in too far and remembered that this was, after all, a mud flat. Although it had nothing on the mud flats on the Cape, where we sank to our knees in places.
The mussels blew up small streams of sand to clear their air holes.