Artwork by Charlotte when aged 8
I remembered and searched out this little essay that I wrote some years ago and wanted to share it. The writing is a bit corny and I haven't edited it, except for the odd comma here and there........ oh, and it's a true story. :)
A Very Special Snail
"Which creature has its eyes on stalks like a Dalek, is related to the octopus and has such a powerful muscle that it can retract its body inside a protective covering carried on its back? Of course, it's a snail! The colour, pattern and shape of its shell are dependent on the environment in which it lives. That is why we are blessed with such a wonderful variety of land and marine molluscs. There are even people who build up collections of shells, such is their fascination and beauty.
However, I am more interested in the creature that lives inside the shell. My first significant experience of snails was my reationship with Henry. It was shortly after my daughter was born and I was going through a period of post-natal depression, as well as living at the time in a claustrophobic house with only a backyard with very high brick walls that I couldn't see over. I felt thoroughly miserable and spent much of my time staring out of the window wishing those eight-foot high walls would fall down.
I had a window-box though and one day I noticed that there was a snail's shell partially buried in the soil. In the weeks to come I watched the snail. He would leave the box in the evening, just as dusk was falling, and would return in the morning. Whilst I looked after my baby daughter, nothing held my interest like that snail. I called him Henry. I don't really know why - he could quite as easily be a Henrietta, since snails are hermaphrodite. I began to put food in the window-box for him and he became thoroughly spoiled on tit-bits of banana, lettuce and apple.
On opening the curtains each morning, I'd look to see if Henry was 'home' and, if he wasn't, I'd return time and time again to the window to anxiously await his arrival! Many a morning I'd see him glide over the top of the box and make his way to the little dent he had made in the soil. But the Spring rains came and one morning Henry didn't return. I watched for him for days until I began to accept that he wasn't coming back. I didn't like to dwell too much on what had become of him but, to this day, Henry is still in our prayers!
In conclusion, I would like to say that Charlotte, my daughter who is now almost six years old, and I have a very close and loving relationship, but I will always be grateful to Henry for getting me through that difficult time......... and that is why snails have a very special place in my heart."
Charlotte is now twelve years old, approaching her teens...... think I might be looking for another Henry! :O)
However, I am more interested in the creature that lives inside the shell. My first significant experience of snails was my reationship with Henry. It was shortly after my daughter was born and I was going through a period of post-natal depression, as well as living at the time in a claustrophobic house with only a backyard with very high brick walls that I couldn't see over. I felt thoroughly miserable and spent much of my time staring out of the window wishing those eight-foot high walls would fall down.
I had a window-box though and one day I noticed that there was a snail's shell partially buried in the soil. In the weeks to come I watched the snail. He would leave the box in the evening, just as dusk was falling, and would return in the morning. Whilst I looked after my baby daughter, nothing held my interest like that snail. I called him Henry. I don't really know why - he could quite as easily be a Henrietta, since snails are hermaphrodite. I began to put food in the window-box for him and he became thoroughly spoiled on tit-bits of banana, lettuce and apple.
On opening the curtains each morning, I'd look to see if Henry was 'home' and, if he wasn't, I'd return time and time again to the window to anxiously await his arrival! Many a morning I'd see him glide over the top of the box and make his way to the little dent he had made in the soil. But the Spring rains came and one morning Henry didn't return. I watched for him for days until I began to accept that he wasn't coming back. I didn't like to dwell too much on what had become of him but, to this day, Henry is still in our prayers!
In conclusion, I would like to say that Charlotte, my daughter who is now almost six years old, and I have a very close and loving relationship, but I will always be grateful to Henry for getting me through that difficult time......... and that is why snails have a very special place in my heart."
Charlotte is now twelve years old, approaching her teens...... think I might be looking for another Henry! :O)
Poetry and artwork by Charlotte
