Every morning, after taking the kids to school, I go for a walk or run at the hike and bike trail near my parent’s house (where we’re staying until we head on to Washington DC in August). The trail is full of amazing wildlife – herons, frogs, insects, vultures, and deer.
One of my favorite everyday sights is the snails. Each morning the trail is covered with them. White, silver, grey, black, brown. Short and fat, long and skinny, slow moving and slower moving. They lumber across the paved trail, leaving behind their slimy paths that are then left glistening in the sun, creating an intricate map of their comings and goings along the pavement. There they are slowly, slowly, every morning from one side of the pavement to the other.
I’ve come to love them. And, as these walks are invariably an opportunity for me to reflect on the ups and downs of our nomadic lifestyle I can’t help but think more and more that these snails are trying to tell me something. So much like us. Slow down. From one end to the other – you’ll get there.
