Quotes About Mud flats

I grew up in Nova Scotia, and my uncle lived close to the Bay of Fundy. We would walk across the mud flats out to an island, and then you'd climb a cliff and be in the forest. And if the water came in, the basin would fill up with, like, a 30-foot tide. It was phenomenal.

I had never liked, even feared a little, this wild reach of marsh and mud flats where everything seemed turned away from the land, looking off desperately toward the horizon as if in mute search for a sign of rescue.