｡˚ .Le petite fille de la mer⋆˙ﾟ

. ݁₊ ⊹Rural Life . ݁˖ . ݁

There’s something oddly mesmerizing about the way they move, gliding slowly across leaves or stones, leaving a shimmering trail in their wake. Snails, with their beautifully coiled shells, seem to carry their homes on their backs, while slugs, shell-less and free, move with a kind of quiet determination. They’re like nature’s slow explorers, taking their time, unnoticed but full of life.

What I find fascinating is how different snails and slugs really are, despite often being lumped together. The shell of a snail is a marvel of design, a tiny fortress made of calcium, protecting it from the outside world. Each one is unique, with spirals and colors that seem as intricate as any work of art. Slugs, on the other hand, have to rely on their camouflage and slimy coating for protection, slipping into the shadows to avoid danger. They’re adaptable, resilient creatures, surviving in places from gardens to forests, even though they seem fragile.

Graceful ocean dance,

Blue blubber jellyfish drifts,

Beauty in the deep 🪼

"I desire the things that would destroy me in the end." - Slyvia Plath

I miss everything I have during the late 2000s— lost toys, forgotten treasures, dead relatives, and gone childhood; All were but a fading memory⁠.ﾟ⁠+⁠ *⁠･⁠゜ﾟ