Not that it matters, as this blog's days are numbered anyway, but I was talking to someone the other day who mentioned reading my blog but couldn't pronounce it. And it made me remember how I chose the name and it was an ironic reminder to have right now really, as some of you might see.
See last summer when we arrived in dear old Spain we used to go walking in the empty fields in and around the town we were staying in. I was struck by all the snails (caracoles) everywhere and I noticed that they had a penchant for climbing things — fences, tall plants, etc — which I had not previously known about snails as I'd always imagined them snailing slimeishly around in the dirt.
Well, I reasoned, it must be because it's so dry here, the sun beats down mercilessly in the summer, with precipitation an extremely rare event. So the snails are thirsty and climb things simply in search of dew to satiate their parched snail souls.
And ta-da, that's when my mind likened us, this 2-legged smug species of ours, to snails. We're all just working our way through life, seeking something to quench us. Somos (we are) but as instinctually driven as these base little creatures.
Yet smart as we think we are, we have no shell to protect us.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
say a prayer for the scaley souls
We very rarely buy fish, so go figure that the day I buy a kilo of fresh beautiful sardines, I see this stunning graphic prepared in honour of European fish week, the website for which has even more mind-boggling fun.
Grace and I thank you for your lives, little glimmering friends.
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