“‘She cried, ‘Cockles and Mussels, alive, alive, oh.'”
I did a quick search on cockles so I’d have something relevant to share, you know, a little “Hmmm, that’s interesting.” blog fodder?
You know what I found? A study from the National Institute of Health; Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh-The role of bivalve molluscs as transmission vehicles for human norovirus infections.
Having gotten sick once on bad oysters I know all about that. (I’m not going to stop eating raw oysters though.)
I’ve never eaten cockles.
These shells wash up on the beach with that hole in them. I’ve pondered that hole often. The hole is never any place else on the shell so I wonder if the shell is weakest there on the crown. Or, Did something break the shell to get to the meat? Most dead critter shells have bore holes in them. Cockles always look like they were cracked with a rock and the part from the hole is missing.
There is a zen to finding cockle shells, if they’re not holey, put them along your drive or in a garden, if they have that hole, bonus, string them up on twine, or, decorate a beach fence. You see cockles like this you know someone was blissed.
It’s zen, like stacking rocks. There is no purpose to the action save to enjoy the beauty of the cockle and the beach.