There is a snail on my balcony. It is sitting happily on a cactus munching away at an adjacent (and slightly less rubbery) plant. I live on the second floor which means this particular snail has shimmied up the outside of the building to enjoy his lunch. Of course I doubt if a snail shimmys exactly. Oozes is a more appropriate word perhaps. Still shimmying or oozing its very impressive. The snail seems to appreciate its achievement as well. There is a definite air of pride as it slowly reduces my foliage to stalks. "See," it seems to be saying, "we snails are slow but we get there in the end". The effort certainly deserves to be applauded but since in this case "there" happens to be a small concrete balcony high in the air with limited available vegetation I can't help thinking it might not have been worth it. I didn't mention that to the snail of course, it was so obviously pleased with itself; the Edmund Hillary of the snail world.
When it finally reaches the ground again what stories it will have to tell. Of course there will be the media interview, the autographs, groupies and eventually a reality tv show. This snail has really made it. On second thoughts I wonder if it ever will go down. That might be even better, the snail that ascended to the sky and never came down. It will become a legend in the snail community (do snails have communities?). Old snails will tell the young (do snails have young?) the legend of the climbing snail. "He's still up there" they'll say, "Living in the clouds and scaring magpies". Every snail will learn the story it will be paused from mouth to mouth. Tales will be told of the old days when snails were great adventurers and his name will be known as long as there is one snail left to carry on the tale, very slowly.
Oh to be such a god, idolised by the people, to become the very stuff of legend and fantasy. The tales will get greater with the telling until his entire personality is swallowed up in the legend. In times to come there will be idols to this snail. They will be small, mucus covered idols but they will be idols nonetheless. Who could ask for more? I feel privileged to be a witness to the apotheosis of this snail god. I am a mute spectator staring in awe at the small, squishy hero before me. I can't help thinking its probably a good thing I don't still have a cat.
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