Follow My Leader was the snails' favourite party game - but the trail of the snail was different every time the snails tried to play. In January, the snails trekked in the snowy - capped mountains, following in the footsteps of the Yeti.
By February, when the ice melted, the snails picked up the trail of rocks and pebbles left by the mountaineers and other mountain bears. In March, the squirrels had kindly left a trail of nibbled and nutty acorns and the Mad March Hare offered a helping hand, bounding in energetically to give the snails a bouncing trip on their trail. April was a feast for fools - the snails were kidded into thinking that the trail lead them out of the woods - but someone had turned the signposts on the woodland paths in the opposite direction and the snails inevitably got lost. Sam Snail was following Sneil Snail, on the tail of Snool Snail and before long the whole battalion of snails found themselves back where they started.
Overhead, swallows cooed and tried to guide the snails along the snail trail but since they were immigrants from the African continent, their directions weren't exactly correct and they directed the snails left when they should have turned right. The leader of the snail trail decided to call a halt at the next roundabout, but could hardly be heard at the back for the ribbeting frogs in the wings - an audience had by now accumulated en route, cheering the snails on their way. They had heard about the marathon from Radio Chaffinch - and brought along beetle juice for the snails to sip to quench their thirst. The pit stop served to delay the snails even further as some of the younger members stopped off on the snail trail to sign autographs for groups of on - lookers and well - wishers.
Of course, snails were usually quite good at map reading (in fact, Bombardier Snail had O' level in orienteering) but given the propensity of trails said to be widely available on the trail, no - snail had thought it necessary to bring an A to Z. In May, on the bank holiday, of course, the Department of Transport had decided to commence road works on the trail which led to a traffic jam at every T - junction and tail backs on the snail trail for miles. Eventually, the snails found a place to park in a lay - by and stopped off for a picnic of popcorn pellets. Once the other pedestrians had littered the trail with a plethora of fizzy drink cans and crisps wrappers, in June the trail became even more confusing.
August was so hot that the sticky trail of the snail had completely dried up - few clues were visible to lead the snails out of their dilemma. Although the September rains soaked the snail trail, the snails' spirits were not dampened because splashing in the puddles was so much fun. Splish ! Splash ! Splosh ! Halloween in October was spooky - and the snails told ghostly tales of ghouls on the snail trail. Boo ! In November, the snail trail was lit with fireworks and it was much easy to see the wild flowers - efflorescent and effervescent in the multi - coloured lighting display. Fortunately, in December, the farmers' wives from the cottage farmhouses had placed breadcrumbs in the snail trail, originally to attract the visiting robin red breasts, but the broken biscuits and crackers did come in very handy indeed - ideal for peckish woodpeckers and lost snails. The annual event of the snail trail had been quite varied and a year long, around the clock adventure.
Jacqueline Richards 2005