Clamming on Good Friday

It's Good Friday, which matters for a few of us, some for good reasons, some for less. I usually spend a few hours in the garden, but today I elected to spend them on a mudflat.

This is what's left after we're done.

At about the same time the Christ would have uttered "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" I raked up a clam that had obviously been broken 2 or 3 years ago, possibly by my rake, likely by someone else's. It does not matter.
The shell had healed along its breakpoint, which extended from the lip all the way back. 

Two things popped up in my mind.

Miracle. Mind you, it's Good Friday.

What does this tell me about the immune system of a quahog that it can survive a rupture of its shell? Mind you, I'm a science teacher.

The two are not incompatible.

I did not have a camera. I put it back into the mudflat. It survived some traumatic event a few years ago, and it survived my rake today. That won't always be true.

But it's true today, on a spectacular spring day whose abundance of light reminds me of what I will lose someday, but not today.


We are here now, and that's enough, for now.

OK, I'll resume the regularly scheduled programming in a day or two. Not every day I stumble on a miracle.

And yes, I am aware that I am hyperacutely looking for miracles today. That's the point, no? 

Our reference changes moment to moment, at least mine does....