Garden Snail 



This warm afternoon I found a little snail house parked in 

 the cool shade of the apple tree. I picked it up and discovered 

 that a garden snail was inside, with the door tightly closed. 



Trailer life may have originated with the snail, who drags 

 his home along with him wherever he goes. We humans 

 have copied the idea, but we haven't improved on it much, 

 and the snail's unique plastic door for his trailer hasn't ever 

 been duplicated successfully. If the snail wants to protect him- 

 self or retire for a quiet rest, he simply withdraws into his 

 shell and closes the one and only door with the sole of his one 

 and only foot. Then nothing can enter. 



When the snail decides to come out, he first scouts the area 

 with a pair of eyes that can be raised or lowered like peri- 

 scopes. Once he pokes his way out of the shell, he sees with a 

 pair of more ordinary eyes placed on the top of his head. 



The snail requires tender vegetation that can be chewed 

 with his many-toothed tongue. He uses his remarkable tongue 

 like a file to scrape food into his mouth, and as his teeth wear 

 out, new ones push up to replace them. 



A snail must always protect his soft and tender body from 

 drying out, and this he does by covering it with a slimy 

 secretion. When he's on the move, this slime also serves as a 

 lubricant, helping him to progress over rough, hot, or dry 

 surfaces. Often you see a thin path of slime on a leaf or win- 

 dow; it's the snail's calling card. But more than that it is also 

 a mixture repellent to ants and other insects, and thus protects 

 him. 



