A Quick Note About Snails

Just a quick note to let you know that I am still here, that I still struggle to escape this prisoner's island and that it is still winter:

That is not frosted glass, it is ice-covered glass.

And that is snowed-in glass.

There are no signs of Spring here. No tufts of green grass, no early flowers, no tendrils of vine, certainly no buds on flowering trees. No new birds or un-burrowed rodents. No bears among the rutabaga fields. Or the soybean fields. Or the corn fields. Hay fields. In fact, there are no bears on Soybean Island. No wolves or cougars or hippopotami or giraffes. No snow leopards or yaks or jaguars or tapirs; no springboks or bison or platypuses. I suppose there are deer, raccoons. I have seen opossums. I suppose there may be coyotes. I do not know of any animal that is specialized to Soybean Island except the snail. A certain species of snail. It--this snail--is almost revered here. It is called The Soybean Island Snail, or more commonly the Bean Snail.

These escargots de haricots have also been called Fighting Snails and Transcendental Snails.

Phasellus pugnae cochleam? Phasellus transcendens cochleam?

One never knows on Soybean Island.

I will investigate further, at some point, and also try to give you a photo of the creature.

For now, here is a shot of their most likely habitat:

This is the--currently frozen--sea grass that grows near the coast. It is as close as I can get to the ocean, the shore, because I am a prisoner of rendition, not a citizen and certainly not an Elite Citizen. Anyway, the Soybean Island Snail: I do not know where they go in the winter, but am told they can live in the hollowed boles of trees:

Perhaps a community of such snails lives in this tree, found on the campus of The University of Soybean Island, home of the Transcendental Snails. The Fighting Snails. The Bean Snails.

I have heard all terms used. As stated, one never knows here.

That is all I have for now. I hope conditions will improve. I hope I can escape The Apparatus, escape the Island; I hope to live as a free and productive man once again.

So, until next time, if there is a next time:

Goodbye from Soybean Island,

                                                         #1957