Tagged: tidal-flats

My uncle Colm did fourteen years as a warden on the tidal defences out past Wells-next-the-Sea, walking the sea wall at night checking the sluice gates hadn't jammed. He told me this story maybe…

"—and I said leave it, Callum, leave it where it is, but you never bloody listen." That's Mam, hissing it across the mud while the headlamps swing between us. Gone eleven, and we're a mile out on the…