Small, but perfect
We are enjoying a glut of apples and plums this year which we are happy to share with others, human or otherwise. The over-ripe, the serially pecked and the windfalls drop to the ground, to be consumed by a myriad tiny creatures.
In this morning’s harvest, a small but perfect passenger was brought safely indoors, travelling on a ripe apple. All babies are beautiful, even snails.
I liked the first verses of this poem by John Bunyan, Upon a Snail:
She goes but softly, but she goeth sure;
She stumbles not, as stronger creatures do:
Her journey's shorter, so she may endure
Better than they which do much further go.
She makes no noise, but stilly seizeth on
The flower or herb appointed for her food,
The which she quietly doth feed upon,
While others range and glare, but find no good.
And though she doth but very softly go,
However, 'tis not fast, nor slow, but sure;
And certainly they that do travel so,
The prize they aim at, they do procure.
