The sky is a piercing blue, and the flat is covered in rocks about a foot across and clumps of seaweed. The mud appears grey. The clammer stamps along the ground, looking for clams before choosing a spot to dig, turning around while setting their empty wooden hod down, and beginning to dig with their six-tined hoe. The clammer is working without gloves, but is wearing a watch on their left wrist, a plaid flannel shirt rolled up to their biceps, and green boots on their feet. They hold the hoe with their left hand at the base of the handle and their right hand near the top, along the ridge of the tines. When they dig, they first scrape the surface of seaweed and loose rocks, then prying bit by bit at the extremely rocky mud. The hoe only makes it about a ¼ to ½ of the way into the mud each time. The clams seem to be relatively close to the surface, nestled under the rocks that the clammer is picking between with their hoe. When enough surface material is cleared away, the clammer generally is able to get the hoe deeper in the mud and flip back larger slabs into the hole. At times they rest with the hoe in their right hand while stretching with their left to place a clam in their hod. They also use the hoe to move larger rocks around, sliding the tines underneath and then tossing the rocks behind them. But sometimes the hoe slips when they’re trying to hook a rock, and the tines scrape along the top. The mud composition is very complex, with many small rocks concealing softer, wetter mud mixed with patches of firmer, drier clay. The colors range from dark and light grey to whitish brown. The longer the digging continues in the first area, the hole gets gradually more wet, as water trapped below gets released toward the surface. When seaweed falls into the hole, the clammer is careful to remove it and toss it aside.