A Small Clay Snail

The front door was propped open with a wedge, so I tiptoed down the wooden steps into the courtyard. Resting under a broad hosta leaf was a tiny terracotta garden snail, half-tucked into rich, dark soil. I paused a few inches away, waiting quietly to see if its little clay horns would twitch. When it stayed completely still, I reached out and gently patted its smooth, sun-warmed shell. It felt sturdy and comforting, nestled right between two smooth river pebbles.