Thursday
First day. Arrival. In the evening I went out for a walk. I
left the village of Harlösa behind me and followed a small trail. Big snails
crossed my path. The moon was almost full. When I turned around to walk home, I
saw a snail with an almost white house on his back. He must have been around
for a long time. He looked as if he was carrying the moon.
Friday
Fika (which is very important in Sweden, meaning drinking
coffee –or something else- with cake or cookies –or something else-) at
Kirsten’s place. She tells me the snails were brought by the monks who came
over in the 12th century from Premontré in France to stay in the Övedskloster,
the monastery at Öved. Little is known about them and there is nothing left of
the old monastery. These days there is a privately owned castle. But the big
“escargots” that wander around these days are the descendants of the snails
that lived there in the 12th century. People here hate them because they eat
the vegetables in their gardens.
Saturday
Small walk. Lots of snails. I carry one all the way. The
last kilometer we walk up hill from Harlösa to the wooden museum houses. The
path is called the snail trail. I saw why.
I take the snail home. I put him in a plastic container. I
wonder if he likes lettuce. My housemate Sean adds some leaves from the garden
so he can have his pick.
Sunday
Rain. Snail weather.
Monday
First part of the Pilgrim Trail. The sea, the sea, the sea
.......
Tuesday
Second walk. Presentation in the evening.
The first thing I did when I came home from my artist’ talk,
after I had poured myself a glass of wine, was checking on the snail. I left it
outside when I went to the community house at 18.00 and since it was 23.30 now,
he couldn’t have moved farther away than 3,5 x 4,8 meter = 16,8 meter. In fact
he only moved 50 cm. If i would be sentimental I would write now we had gotten
attached to each other. Of course we haven’t. Still I was glad he hadn’t gone
far.
I did some writing and went to sleep. Around 5 in the
morning I woke up and realised I had forgotten to put the snail back inside. I
walked into the garden to discover he had climbed back into the plastic
container I kept him in. I know it was only because there was food inside, but
still ......
Wednesday
I’ve been researching snails and read about the love dart. Prior
to copulation, each of the two snails attempt to "shoot" one (or
more) darts into the other snail. There is no organ to receive the dart; this
action is more analogous to a stabbing, or to being shot with an arrow. The
dart does not fly through the air to reach its target however; instead it is
fired as a contact shot.
Mating always begins with a courting
ritual. The two snails circle around each other for up to six hours, touching
with their tentacles and biting lips and the area of the genital pore. As the
snails approach mating, hydraulic pressure builds up in the blood sinus
surrounding the organ housing the dart. Each snail manoeuvres to get its
genital pore in the best position, close to the other snail's body. Then, when
the body of one snail touches the other snail's genital pore, it triggers the firing
of the dart.
Wauw.
Thursday
Last walking day for this week. I forgot my map. Too many
things to do in the morning. Hurrying. Then just after we started there is a
big snail on the road. Somebody says “yes, this must be the right way”.
Friday
A week has passed. Our first day off. Breathing in,
breathing out. There has been a lot of rushing during the walking. There were
always appointments with people we had to be in time for. Keeping the speed,
keeping an eye on your watch, limited time to wander off. Lots of people to
talk to. Little silence. Don’t get me wrong, it was wonderful. Meeting
beautiful people, being welcomed in the warmest way possible, never ending
hospitality, and being in situations that gave me new things to think about.
They need to be balanced though and they were this morning when I sat in the
grass and looked at how the snail slowly and silently moved in its own way,
touching the grass halms with its tentacles (they carry their eyes on the upper
set and smell with the lower two).
Here we are. And as my walking partner Sara told us on our last walking day: always at the right time in the right place.
Here we are. And as my walking partner Sara told us on our last walking day: always at the right time in the right place.
