Monday 24 February 2014

PIDDOCKS





Lessons from the Shore: Piddock Clams and Moon Snails copy

Posted by Julie Hall on July 25, 2012 at 9:24 am
by Leigh Calvez July 25, 2012, 9:24 a.m.



Piddock clam hole in stone
Then Gerlind pointed out the holes in the hard-packed mud all around us, some with tubes sticking out of them. She bent over to touch the creature with one finger and water squirted up as it retreated into the hole. She identified these creatures as Piddock clams and told their story. The Piddock clam starts its life as a larvae drifting along with the currents until it finds a nice patch of hard mud it can latch onto. As its shell starts to grow it begins to bore into the sea floor. Each year it adds another layer to its shell and digs deeper into the hole with only the long siphon emerging from the hole to filter its food from the water. It will spend its entire life in that one hole. “I know some people like that,” whispered someone next to me. I shuddered as I looked into the holes that reminded me of tiny graves.

We continued down the beach, stopping now and again to examine other tiny creatures. The life of the Piddock clam stayed with me as I walked. What would that be like to stay in the same hole for your whole life? For me, with my deep desire to travel and explore, the Piddock’ life sounded like a death sentence. The story of the Piddock clam would stay with me for a long while.

Then one of the naturalists found an adult moon snail alive with its muscular foot extruded from its shell. I was thrilled! I love moon snails with their beautifully rotund, white spiral shells.

I admired the moon snail’s freedom, going wherever and whenever it pleased, taking its home with it, unlike the Piddock clam that buries itself for life.

Why, I wondered, was I so repulsed by the Piddock clam and so in awe of this fat, pink snail? Then I understood something I’d not wanted to admit to myself. I had become a Piddock clam. For all the courageous, moon snailish wandering I had done in my life, my life had become a tight shell of fear of looking foolish, stupid, or bothersome. I had let fear bury me in layers of mud that kept me stuck. And I didn’t want to see it.

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