#1 “NEW” PineAweigh Adventures — 2019 “Moon Snails”
Moon Snail shells. I admit to being fond of them; I even bound a collection of essay and poems some years ago entitled, “Moon Snail Shells and Other Broken Things.”
The broken one, above, I found today (and left it) on a Blake Island beach. The other one, unbroken and bleached, rests near a basket of rocks, shells, and shore glass on PineAweigh’s flybridge. I sit below now, in the saloon, writing.
“Oh,” I said, when I came across the shell, “Sorry.” But why be sorry for a vicious predator, a four or five inch invertebrate that somehow packs inside its coiled house a mushy mantle as wide as a pie pan. And its multi-purposed foot? Ha! Water controlled, that tool can extend some twelve inches to clamp onto a clam or mussel or mollusk, drag it deep into the sand, secure it, extend the foot’s tongue (that’s right, the foot has a tongue and the tongue has seven rows of teeth used to drill a hole into the victim’s shell.) The foot, dare I call it the proboscis, carries a gland that secretes enzymes and hydrochloric acid to hasten the drilling process. You know, the creature is hungry; in a hurry. Drilling done? Over the next few days, the mighty Moon Snail rasps and sucks the invaded shell clean. I guarantee that you won’t be bored by looking into the life cycle of this creature.
But, this is what I noticed when I came across the broken shell with some of its chewed off self still visible. I noticed that the “door” of the shell, was shut and undamaged. When that snail sensed danger, its ciliated foot was fast pulled inside and its horny operculum, a strong shiny plate, slammed the shell shut. Was it an eagle that lifted it off the beach and dropped it on the rocks, finding a different way in?
The lesson? There’s always a lesson in things observed, is there not? The lesson for me was this—best not to think slamming emotional doors shut guarantees safety; you know, those barriers meant to protect our hearts, our opinions, our fears, our anger, our prejudices. Or, whatever. There’s always a way to penetrate barriers. Sometimes, we are sorry; but, more often we should be glad.
