There’s something bucolic about snails.  Often depicted darling in children’s literature and artwork, snails are usually portrayed as positive thematic characters in toddlers’ pillows and young ones’ stuffed toys.   Snails are cute:  silly looking and alien-like, seemingly unobtrusive and retiring, in most humans they don’t arouse fear (like honeybees) or disgust (like rats).  Maybe it’s the Fibonacci-like swirl of their shells–graceful and elegant–that appeals.  Perhaps it’s the quirky, squishy body and wiggly antennae, alert and upright, searching, almost comedic, that gives the creatures great charm. 

 A few posts back, I commented that snails are in my garden, never causing much damage, just oozing along, mostly minding their own business.  I regretted the times I’ve accidentally crushed them.

Not long after that post, I caught this one sipping from the open blossom of a Spiderwort.  It looks kind of sweet, doesn’t it?  A crafty sort could use the scene as a needlepoint subject or embroidery project.

Was this little garden creature sipping the morning dew?  Or was it eating the blossom?

Oh dear, that might change the dynamics for the plant.  Turns out, snails are causing some damage in my garden this spring. 

Grrr.

My unknown variety of amaryllis, the bulbs given to me long ago by my mother, have been the dining choice of at least one of these slimy beasts.  

Varmint!

Nasty varmint!  (Note the change in tone toward the snail.) There it is, snug in its corner booth, chowing down on my flower!

The cluster of open blooms is functioning, they’ve all opened up, as they will in spring, then snails moved in and did what snails do–eat, eat, poop.  Sigh. 

The amaryllis only bloom once–now–and won’t again until next year.  I’ve railed against the snails, called them bad names, and fantasized about squishing the lot of them.  In the end, I should have noticed their activities and acted more quickly.  After all, it’s not like I’m gone from the house much these days.

It’s done and no use in crying over munched petals; there are certainly more important considerations in the world, and even in my garden.  It’s a good lesson for me and no doubt, one that I will  learn again, in a different situation.  For now, I need to find my hiking boots and, um, get to work. 

Joining with Anna’s Wednesday Vignette.  Pop over to her lovely Flutter and Hum and check out garden happenings elsewhere.  

I’d like to know what this little snail is searching for.  Perhaps a leafy bed to lie in?  Or maybe some petals to snack on?  Might it simply like the color blue?

I’m fortunate that snails aren’t much of a problem in my garden.  They’re in the garden, but not damaging.  The trundle along, slow and steady, and quiet.

Except when I step on one.  Snails aren’t quiet when I accidentally step on one.

Crunch. 

I feel badly when that happens and apologize. I suppose that’s a hollow gesture.

Possibly, curiosity drives this one to search.  It halted progress downward as I approached, wiggling its antennae, sniffing its surroundings.

Do antennae smell scents?  Apparently, they do.  As well, snails use antennae for movement and orientation, and sometimes, for sight.  Useful things.

I hope the snail climbed out, made its way down the bottle tree, and relocated itself to flatter ground before our recent rains.  I haven’t seen it since I snapped this photo, but would I know this snail–irrespective of size–from any other?

Probably not.

If you’re searching for something fun, interesting, or beautiful, check out Anna’s Flutter and Hum for Wednesday Vignette musings.