We're in the final week of summer before school starts. We're trying to S-L-O-W D-O-W-N time. What better way to do that than to observe shelled gastropod mollusks, aka snails.

The sight of snails still fascinates me because during our 7 years living in Tucson I never once saw a snail. I saw every other critter, but not snails.  Since moving to Switzerland, I am always surprised when one crosses my path...or rather, I cross theirs.
Hoisting himself out of the storm drain.

Crossing the dirt running path.

And blazing a trail.

Some snails hide in plain sight:
Can you see him?


Did you know, the speed of snails is around 0.5-0.8 inches per second? If they moved without stopping, it would take more than a week to complete 1 kilometer.

Today's poem is a limerick about a poor, poor snail:
A garden snail from Avondale
Took a trip -- an epic fail
Sailing on the sea
In a fit of glee

The snail was dinner for a whale.*
©2018, Bridget Magee. All Rights Reserved.
*This version of this poem is thanks to Joy, poet extraordinaire, 
for her expert feedback on my original limerick.