Here are some of the wild strawberries in our garden.  They are delicious, they grow all over the place and as far as I can see they have no local predators except me.

As soon as the rain starts, all the snails come dashing out:

They’ve all headed in one direction, down

to the bottom of the garden.  It’s a mad snaily panic, like the Odessa Steps scene in Battleship Potemkin …

… past the lavender…

… to my wife’s strawberry bed, where they eat all the ripe ones:

I’d much rather they didn’t eat the strawberries, but it’s almost worth it just to know that snails prefer the taste of cultivated strawberries to almost anything —  certainly to the wild variety, which has a very different flavour — and that they are so determined that they will go all the way to the other end of the garden to procure them.

You might just be able to see that, I think, a bird  has pecked a hole in the shell of the bottom snail. There’s a pale grey mark on the ridge of its back where it’s been repaired.

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