Snail seen through frosted glass: part of an occasional and unpredictable series of photographs. No one knows for sure when anything will actually end or if there is any kind of ending anyway but I have now reached an age where I tend to notice snails a bit more than I used to.
They seem to like the lip of the brown garden bin, from which no easy escape or access to food is possible, the balcony iron railing and the junction between the down pipe and the water butt or lost and meandering on a concrete slab wilderness. They have been spotted in other locations, this one was half way up (or down) the front door glass panel one morning. Their random silver artwork streaks greet me first thing when I look down at the doorstep. I've seen tiny baby snails with their translucent shells still forming ... OK that's enough of that, starting to sound like Roy Batty.
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