When I lived in SoCal there were snails everywhere. We’d walk down the sidewalk dodging the little buggers. We’d find them near the pool. In the garden. In the grass. You didn’t have to look far to find one.
Missouri is a different story. I can’t tell you the last time I saw a snail.
Jake woke me up early because he had to do his business and when I went to fill up his water dish there was a snail crawling (such as it is) along the ridge. I’d say that I rushed to get my camera out of the car, but I really didn’t feel the need to hurry. I took the snail off the bowl and put it on the table where it would be easier to shoot.
A sad ending to this photo shoot. When I picked the snail up to toss him into the woods where he could carry on with his life, my finger went right through his shell as I released him. I felt weirdly guilty about it. Poor snail. He gave his life for these pictures. Boo!