we walked over the saltmarsh this afternoon and waded the Stiffkey – a powerful current pushed the dogs sideways into the deeper parts; I just walked very slowly – it was nowhere near the top of my boots, but I had picked my path carefully. the snow and rain has swollen the river so it is more like its winter self.

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rust dyed blue rope and rusty shackle on this  fibreglass hulk caught my eye, so I ended up making a little photo essay of Jonathon and his mussel fishing.

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the river makes a lapping noise as it runs over the gravel shallows. the Stiffkey and the Glaven empty out into the big lagoon here behind the point, making a very special brackish environment, perfect for mussels, and other estuarine shellfish, which feeds a huge population of wetland birds.

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a cold tough job, but an independent small enterprise, which supplies pubs hotels and restaurants all along the coast here.

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at low tide the resin boat is towed out into the lagoon to the mussel beds and filled by shovel and rake.

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today was grey and drizzling, temperatures around six centigrade, but as we talked the last of the cloud moved across and the sun came out.

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Sal and Tilda fancy the mussels, they know there’s something edible there.

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simple functional things are often the most beautiful.

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the light here is really special; the huge sky reflects off the water and the wet mud.

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potato farmers, supplying Walker’s crisps, buy water from the river for irrigation, and there is a worry that they take too much in dry seasons, which affects the salinity of the water in the harbour, and allows rapid silting up.

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low sun across the marsh, late afternoon.

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