fear the birds

Dear Snails… Snailkind?

I recently moved to your area. I did not really know it was your area actually until tonight. In fact, until tonight I wasn’t sure snails actually existed in the wild. I believe until this evening the only snails I had ever seen were either in someone’s fish tank, or stuffed into mushrooms and sautéed with garlic and butter. For all I knew the only wild snails existed in those clever cartoons depicting one of you on a turtle’s back exclaiming “WEEEEE!” as the wind rushed through your antennae. (You see, to humans, you exist for the sole purpose of making metaphors for slow people, and the aforementioned consumption). However, all of my delusions were shattered this evening when I went for a walk and killed several of you.

I did not mean to do so; this was not a malicious act. It just happens that you are tiny, and apparently like to litter the sidewalk like cigarette butts after it rains. Where I am from, the only creatures that do this are worms, which are remarkably resilient creatures that can stand up to a size 14 sneaker like nobody’s business. You, however, have decided to encase yourself in a shell, which might work well against a bird, but when set upon by a grown man, becomes nothing more than a barrage of shrapnel that rips your tiny (and savory) bodies to pieces. It might not be so bad if you made yourselves more visible. Several of you have learned to seek out pools of light, where you can be seen and avoided. It appears however that you like to take family picnics in the shade of trees at midnight, where up to five of you can be obliterated in a single stride.

This creates a problem for me in that I then have to scrape you of my shoe before entering my house, like so much dog leavings. I suggest you evolve in some tougher shells, or perhaps some sort of snail education program, to warn yourselves on the dangers of sidewalks.

I just wanted to let you know that I am not hunting you down or anything; you were just collateral damage, because I needed orange juice. Please don’t take my evening stroll as a declaration of war and come get me in my sleep. Though I live on a high enough floor that I could probably see you coming for a week, and close my window. Hahaha!

Sorry, I couldn’t resist one more slow joke.

Thank you very much for your time, I will try in the future not to destroy any more of your children.

Sincerely,

Brian Johnson

P.S. - I might also suggest investing in tiny miners lamps. I think I could avoid stepping on those.

(Brian Johnson is an out of work former film student, who has way too much time on his hands to think about things like the welfare of the snail nation. This is his first contribution to this incarnation of Fear The Birds. Be Kind.)