The Sunlit Spiral

The bleached spiral of an empty snail shell caught my eye beside the cedar planter. I stepped across the warm stone flags with patient, measured strides, pausing two inches away to study its brown bands curving down to a dark center. Lowering my snout, I gave the brittle rim a gentle nudge. It pivoted in a slow, wobbling half-circle against the grit before tipping its fluted opening toward the light. A faint garden draft whispered across the hollow lip. I eased forward and rested my chin against the sun-warmed calcium edge, quietly peering into the cool shade within.