Ponsa ponsa time, I sat on a log just off a Stanley Park path in Vancouver. I sat there for a long time. There was a huge stump next to me, with a scattering of oyster and mussel shells. I realized that it must be a place that seagulls drop the shellfish in order to break the shells so that they can eat the critter inside.
People walked back and forth along the path, within three feet of me, and nobody saw me. After about an hour, a small child came caroming around the bend, and stopped at the stump, picking up a shell.
"Mommy!" he yelled, running back down the path. "Mommy! Look what I found!"
Mommy came along, pushing a stroller and talking with another mommy.
"Oh," she said. "That's dirty. Throw it away!"
Sadly, the child threw down the shell. Another child, offspring of the other mommy, ran up to the stump and bent down to pick up a shell.
"Stop it!" yelled the first child. "It's dirty!"
And the group moved on.