Even before/I decide which to take,/which to twist from the wet rocks,/which to devour,/they, who have no eyes to see with,/see me, like a shadow,/bending forward.” – Mary Oliver, "Mussels", 1979
I enjoyed reading this, while salivating for oysters and muscadet on a terrace looking at à river. But i no longer can mangé these shelled délicate morsels. But, I have splendide memories of when I could, and did often with joyeuse abandon.
The mussels I picked from the rocky shores of Cleggan were at times the difference between dinner and going hungry. Even a fool like me had a bucket to carry them home...
I enjoyed reading this, while salivating for oysters and muscadet on a terrace looking at à river. But i no longer can mangé these shelled délicate morsels. But, I have splendide memories of when I could, and did often with joyeuse abandon.
The mussels I picked from the rocky shores of Cleggan were at times the difference between dinner and going hungry. Even a fool like me had a bucket to carry them home...