Last week I began to notice strange messages written our back yard dining table. They were carved in the algae that grows in the summer rain. I tried to make sense of them but they were in a language unfamiliar to me. I imagined green graffiti artists beaming down from The Mother Ship.
I soon discovered discovered Puerto Rican Tree Snails writing late at night. Dozens were slowing feasting on the grey scum.
Would you like some of your own? We have more than enough.
We didn't have any until we visited our North Grove friends, Thorn and Theresa, three years ago. I was admiring their spiraled snails when they offered me a few. Now they are all over our yard taking care of the algae problem we never had.
Hiding in the day, they cruise at night, and have huge parties on the driveway when rains. Running over (or stepping on them) them makes a curious sound. It is similar the one you enjoyed as a child stepping on small Christmas tree bulbs.
Again, would you like some? Step on over to our house. We are more than willing to share.