They are getting earlier…I checked, it was April last year. Granted, last year they had a step to navigate, while the new place allows free ingress over the threshold, but this year, the first slug of spring slithered in through the door on the last Sunday of February. Ani alerted me to the intrusion by singing to the skirting board beside the garden door where the stealthy invasion was happening. I carefully removed the invader, replacing it in the garden… there is no point in even contemplating a more distant location; they are, it seems, homing slugs.
I have tried all the traditional ways of discouraging them, but stop short of deliberate destruction. The odd accident has happened, including squishing and the inadvertent drowning of the two-feather slug,
The fish, happily swimming in their enclosed world, neither know nor would they care about the slug. Their artificially heated environment removes all need to notice the outside world unless it is about to threaten or feed them. Ani, herself more attuned to Nature’s cycles than we mere humans, will not change her stance… invaders of any kind simply do not happen on her watch, regardless of how many legs they may, or may not have.
It is odd how differently we can see the same thing, depending on our perspective. Even as I cringingly removed the small invader, I was still glad to see it. All others of his kind that cross my threshold… and there will doubtless be many… will recieve a chillier reception. Their nature has not changed, only where I stand in relation to them. And whether or not I start wearing slippers…
For the rest of the year I will curse their kind, like all gardeners and all who go blithely barefoot in their own home., forgetting the possible presence of such intruders. But the first slug of spring marks a passage from chill to warmth.