The Daily Bucket is a place to catch your casual observations of the natural world and turn them into a valuable resource. Whether it's the first flowers of spring or that odd bug in your basement, don't be afraid to toss your thoughts into the bucket. Check here for a more complete description.
Seattle
Sometimes the Pacific Northwest grey stretches out with no perceivable end. Everything drips, the ground is squishy, the mosses are plump and green. One might think that these conditions would be perfect for snails and slugs, but there are long periods where I almost forget that they're around. They seem to need a specific combination of damp and warmth before they appear in the spring. The slugs usually show up in the damp days right after the first week of warm sunshine. The snails creep out of their hidey holes sometime later.
A couple of weeks ago I almost stepped on a Pacific Sideband Snail (Monadenia fidelis) as it worked its way across one of the smaller paths in the forest. I can't say if this was the first sighting of the year. I'm often hyper-focused on one thing when I walk and can be oblivious to other stuff going on around me. Still, since then I've noticed more and more of these snails on my daily walks.
On Sunday I found another snail going about its business in the moss along one of the trails. "Going about its business" is relative; this one was just kind of sitting there, slowly waving its tentacles through the air.
The light was pretty good, the place convenient for getting down on hands and knees, and this almost stationary creature seemed a good candidate for a close-up portrait. My camera has a nice macro setting, so I nudged the lens up as close to my subject as I could and started taking pictures. Over the next three minutes I snapped 15 frames, which are now combined into a very short movie.
Three Minutes in the Life of a Snail, condensed into 8 seconds:
The snail's initial response to having a lens stuck in its face was to retract all four tentacles. As the minutes went by it seemed to become comfortable in the camera's presence, unfurled its horns one by one and began to investigate its surroundings. I particularly like the way its mantle ripples as it turns towards something of interest to its right.
When I was little I would horrify my mother with gifts of snails collected from the garden. She never did come around, but I still think they're pretty nifty creatures.
###
What's happening where you are?