Country diary: It's hard not to fret over snails and their trails | Derek Niemann

Frome, Somerset: For months they were there on the doormat, then they disappeared with the dryness, now they're back, giving it the full spaghettiIn the dead of night over many months, a visitor entered our kitchen and wrote in the wee small hours over the doormat. What to read into its silvery doodles other than "I was here, here and here"? I never crept downstairs to interrupt and spoil its mystery; never saw it or worked out how it came and went.Every night it came without fail, until one parched day of the droughty summer. Over the previous few nights, the kitchen trails of our slug or snail had grown thin, thready and shorter. Continue reading...