You're Doing it Right

Momma shows baby how it's done

In the evenings, when the dust has settled from work days, I like to go for walks in quiet neighborhoods. My year abroad in Italy taught me the beauty and sanctity of strolling and wandering after cena, and it's a routine I've managed to keep. What I enjoy most are glimpses of nature on urban streets. It is a thrill for me to catch creatures being busy, being themselves, going about their business on their own accord.

At night, kitties scurry to and fro, skunks slink from porch to porch, and wistful dogs stare out from behind glass doors and windows, itching to explore, too, like me. 


This night I came across a momma snail with baby in tow. The two were taking great pains to cross a vast expanse of concrete that took me just three steps to cover. In their wake, a translucent polka-dotted trail was left, marking their journey, leaving crystalline crumbs of their adventure. 


I stopped to marvel their delicate, purposeful, centimeter-at-the-most, strides. Yes, strides. Because strides were resolutely taken for I had seen the squiggly, gracefully-plotted proof of these night snails' expedition in which momma had indeed shown baby how it's done. 


"That's right," I had imagined she said to her young one trailing her every dot. "You're doing it right."