around these parts, almost no wildlife is left. not even doña julia, the woman who looks after the ranch in cahuacán, remembers ever seeing a bear--and she's lived in the forested town of cahuacán for close to a century. birds have somehow managed to escape the deer and coyote's fate; the sound of ducks this time of year is as close as we'll likely get to sizeable, wild things.
but life still marches ahead in small-bodied form. our yard somehow beckoned to snails near and far, and we've found eight so far who heeded the call.
patricio wasn't keen on the idea of sharing his garden with the snails, so he plucked them from their new outposts and delivered them to the back patio. i think the idea is a nod to his days of ant destruction, since he's really just starving those snails out on the tile floor and concrete walls. i guess the snails will be going the way of the bear.
so i was glad to see that yesterday they enjoyed a triumphant evening on their slow road toward demise. just as patricio predicted, the rains came tumbling down, and they kept on tumbling. and in the water's wake, the snails stretched out from underneath their shells and started to play. i know they're a garden's nemesis, but that didn't stop me from marveling for a while as they slid quietly along the lengths of the patio walls and the faux stone floor.
click here to grant a humble snail a minute of fame. if fifteen of you do it, the snail and i and andy warhol's spirit will be grateful. lechaim! to (wild) life!