The snail's journey

I never found much beauty within England. Having travelled all over the world, explored so many cultures and environments, I found home to be rather drab. Far too green in my opinion. I have seen some beautiful animals on my travels, everything from a honey badger to a humpback whale and I truly believe I can find beauty in any animal on this planet.

One slightly damp Wednesday in summer I pushed myself once again to put myself through the torture that is running in England. I personally find England is either too hot or too cold for running, too wet, far too muddy and overall a little too crowded.

Now there are two types of runners. The first type of runner is slim, fit and as they launch themselves through their hillside running route people look from all around thinking, "wow, what a fit and healthy person!"

They tell people that anyone can run and that eventually running won't be hell to them. That feeling where your heart is about to explode? That'll go away! Just keep at it.

Then there is me. I'm a runner that takes short breaks every 10 paces wondering where the nearest shop that sells cake is. I have to force myself to go for a run then I seriously consider whether 1 kilometre justifies having a takeaway for tea. I do not believe that running will ever be a passion to me, so I am most certainly willing to take my run through stinging nettles, creeks, mud and more just to be sure I’m never seen!

So, there I was, on the drab Wednesday, running along my usual very hidden running lane. There was something moving slowly in the grass that caught my eye. Thankful of yet another excuse to stop and rest, I bent down and who should I see but a small, surprisingly majestic snail making his way very peacefully through the forest of grass. It surprised me that I spent quite so long admiring the vibrance of his shell and the way that the damp air had exaggerated the texture of his skin. I watched him move slowly forward for a few seconds, feeling his way forward with his tentacles and climbing up, what I imagine to him, must have been a mountain.

It’s rare that I consider how difficult it must be to be that small. I spend most of my run worrying that my muscles will fail me, and I’ll be left in the lane for a badger to attack, but this small snail braves that every day, slithering along carrying its house along on its back.

I took out my earbuds, crouched as low as I could and steadied my phone to capture a photo of my new favourite snail on his journey. Honestly, if you told me that one day a photo of one a snail would rekindle my love for the British countryside, I’d call you a liar, not a particularly good one. But there I was, standing in the middle of the path, admiring the colours and the textures that I had captured with only a phone. Do you ever take a picture so beautiful that you need to edit it immediately? This was the one! I immediately played with the brightness and contract – that’s as far as my photo editing skills have ever gone, but I am happy with the result, and that’s the most important thing.

Now I understand that no nature is wasted. We may not have exciting predators, sprinting to take down large prey. We may not have deadly snakes and spiders. But we do have the humble snail, and for that I shall always be grateful.