Here\u2019s a lovely word: aestivate. It\u2019s what my garden snails did through the parched weeks of our summer drought, pulling their bodies high up into their shells and closing the door. Here\u2019s another: epiphragm \u2013 the pearl-like door they make to keep moisture in as they slow their hearts and their breathing, until just a thread of life remains.<\/p>\n
Pretty words, but such power in them. Over the summer I\u2019d find these snails, dry and still, and hold them in my hands before tucking them back behind my garden pots. This is it, I\u2019d think, the irony of our times: there\u2019s us humans, all-powerful and cruelly dismissive of everything that is not us, hurtling towards changes in our climate that our bodies are entirely unequipped to deal with. And then here are snails, not invulnerable either, but with more forbearance than we could ever dream of.<\/p>\n
Marks from a snail\u2019s tongue-like radula on Josie George\u2019s garden furniture. Photograph: Josie George<\/p>\n
Even so, both my small friends and I have been celebrating since the rain returned. I keep stepping into my garden, tipping my face to the sky, and seeing them move slowly and determinedly across the slick walls and paths to eat everything that remains from the summer \u2013 the clematis, the hostas, the snapdragons.<\/p>\n
Yes, autumn is here and the snails are back to rule their world again. What deep comfort there is in that. And what do they leave in their wake? Art. My dirty garden furniture has become a canvas. Lacy, spiralling lines cut through the algae. Look closely and you\u2019ll see the triangular pattern of their radula \u2013 a kind of conveyor-belt tongue covered in microscopic teeth \u2013 as they scrape, move, scrape. Keep your eyes open and you\u2019ll see their mark everywhere; the bridge over to our local Sainsbury\u2019s has become a veritable\u00a0gallery for snail expression. Like all great art, it isn\u2019t surface decoration but an act of reclamation and defiance.<\/p>\n
Here\u2019s to resilience, then, and the ability to turn the necessary business of living into something slow, delicate, meaningful \u2013 something that leaves beauty in its wake.<\/p>\n