Estuaries are magical places because they transform constantly, as the sea makes regular visits before dashing off to another party, and back again, rhythmically and reliably but also fashionably later than the day before.
One particular estuary in the Kingdom of Klah, the Oreh-wuto, has a few extra magic parts to it - there’s a little island stage in the middle of it that Herman the Merman often brings his circus to, where the crowds gather and eat extra salty popcorn. There’s a section of reeds home to a family of ducks who are said to be royalty because their feet are not webbed, but instead have long toes which they use to play the harp with moderate competence. There are patches of quicksand which are not like in the movies, always sucking you down to the earth’s core, but rather small societies of sand that value being prompt even though they don’t have anything to do, so they tend to dash around aimlessly – great for exfoliating the feet or if you need a bit of furniture sanded, not so great for a snooze in the sun.
Should you want to go to the earth’s core, you’d be better to try the labyrinths of crab holes that tunnel left and right and up and down and back and forth through both sand and mud & time and space. People sometimes speak of wormholes, but really they mean the crab holes of Klah. The holes are not signposted however, so enlisting the services of a Certified Crab Guide is advised. Always ask to see their certification papers, because rogue guides do exist and may take you somewhere quite different, like outer space, and then steal your boots.