Pliny the Elder disapproves of my recent blogs. I have been lowering the tone, he says. There are better things to write about than putative yellow phalluses and better subjects for poems than his cure for constipation. Write about something instructive, he says.
Well, Pliny, I am going to. Today my subject is the snail. Yesterday Nostradamus and I went for an evening walk after the rain. The road was lined with puddles and fallen jacaranda flowers. The sky was full of dark clouds. Droplets dripped from the trees.
All at once I was astonished to see a snail on the road. I hadn't seen a snail for over a year. Until that moment I had forgotten that I hadn't. I looked for more snails. But there was only one snail on Avonmore Avenue.
I wondered if I should report the snail. People have been asked recently to report possums. I decided I should.
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