I’m used to finding invasive and non-native species in my yard. I’m probably responsible for some — tansy? I’ve ooh’d and aah’d over, but did not buy, things that are outright illegal in my county — purple loose- strife, anyone? And only last year, my husband chopped a particularly beautiful tamarisk out of the yard.
Some stuff rode in on bird poop, wind and coyote coats. But I work with it, pulling, digging and pulling again.
Last weekend, I was pulling grass and tansy from beds that have evolved into fine specimens of tallgrass prairie when I accidentally yanked out a wad of rock cress. Along with the roots came a snail. Not a slug. A snail. Fat and sort of sassy and out of context, for sure.
I was practically giddy. I ran across the street to show my friend. We let it crawl across our hands, letting it pose on our fingers like a cocktail ring and then watching it explore our palms and wrists.
And then, even though I could kind of hear my local horticulture agent advising against it — aren’t you growing garlic, she would later ask — I freed the creature back into the garden, figuring I’ll work with it — and its offspring — when I have to. Dana Coffield, The Denver Post
