5 Snails and a Slug
You know, sometimes it’s hard to begin a story. This is one of those times. You see, we’ve been walking the area for well over a year now, and while there are some rare events we’ve encountered (such as a bit of flooding after a couple of weeks of heavy rains) I think we’ve pretty much become accustomed to the types of weather and natural occurrences that take place here in Didam. Like all places, there are patterns and once one becomes familiar with those patterns, there’s a sense of comfort to them. Even if it’s the fact that the smell of cow will permeate the house if the dead-air transition between one weather pattern and the next lasts more than a few hours, there is still comfort in familiarity. Call it the circle of life. It’s a bit different everywhere, but once you’re attuned to it, things seem much more relaxed . . . normal.
However, earlier this year we wondered about an occurrence that happened last year over a several week period that we hadn’t seen this year at all. No, we’re not talking about the lack of tulips - that was the result of our neighbor planting a different crop this year. While not quite to the scale of a cicada emergence (which I fondly remember from my youth, and regret missing this year’s dual emergence), we had an emergence of frogs. Particularly around the near-by lake we walk beside most mornings. Some mornings it would look like the paved bike path was alive, zillions of little frogs (toads?) swarming across the bike path, some mornings in one direction, other mornings in the opposite direction. Being the compassionate people we try to be, our conversations would cease (after of course commenting on the frogs), so we could walk through the swarm without stepping on any of them. It went like that for a couple-three weeks, and then was pretty much over except for the occasional frog here and there.
Well, this year was different. We either missed the frog emergence while we were in Sweden, or it just didn’t happen this Spring. What did happen though were slugs. Lots of slugs. Swarms of slugs. Nasty slugs. Everywhere. All over the ground. And it’s been that way for a couple of months now (fortunately not so much by our home). So lately, as we’re walking, we’re constantly looking down so as not to step on them (many, and I mean many judging by the number of splats on the ground, have met an untimely death due to bicycles or pedestrians). I guess our caution is less out of compassion for the slugs and more out of a desire to not feel an unpleasant squish under our feet or having to clean the bottoms of our soles when we get home. In a word, it’s gross. Really gross. Slugs are not nearly as cute as baby frogs. Adding to the slugs over the past month have been an emergence of snails. Yeah, the shells might be interesting at times, but really, all it does is make things seem all that much more gross. Slugs and snails, snails and slugs.
Well, last Sunday morning things changed yet again. We hadn’t really noticed it until we hit bird alley (if you don’t know bird alley, see the post “Ours goes to 17”). We were commenting on the overall absence of slugs on the bike path near De Westernborderij, when Ann suddenly commented that they seemed to all be in the bushes. And man were they.
Ann, good photographer that she is, had her Leica with her and I asked to borrow it. (She got a gold star from her teacher that day.)
From one plant comes the title of the post.
5 Snails and a Slug
It was like some ecological signal went off announcing, “Climb you slimy creatures!” As we walked down Bird Alley, they were everywhere, seemingly attacking every bush.
5 Snails, No Slug
Slugs and snails, snails and slugs.
Now, I know folks deal with slugs all the time in their gardens. And Oregon had its fair share of slugs in the woods, as does Washington. In fact, I became a bit fond of the Banana Slug. But that’s because you only see one of them at a time, and they’re not hard to miss. They do not swarm out, en mass like ants (or Dutch slugs).
They were on everything. You’d look over at a plant and think something is not quite right. Well, that’s because there’s a damn snail on it! Or a slug wrapped around a stem. Something that delicate looking isn’t supposed to be supporting a snail with a mobile home on its back! We did not have this in Didam last year, I can assure you.
Sure, some of the shells might be pretty interesting looking, but that thing living inside is still pretty gross. I don’t care what the French say, it can’t be tasty.
So yeah, while our Sunday walk started with some interesting morning skies, and a rainbow to boot, it turned rather gross rather quickly. 2024 - Year of the Slug and Snail.
I guess we really don’t have the feel for this place like we thought we did.
Oh, and if that wasn’t odd enough, over by De Westernborderij (the Western Farm . . . think tacky Cowboy Western Farm adventure center for office fun days) there was this chicken just sitting on a hedge. Just sitting there. Minding its own business.
I am absolutely, positively, for sure, certain that there has never, ever been a chicken sitting on that hedge before. (Postscript - or since!)
Something strange, something very strange is going on here in Didam.