Once upon a time there lived a snail who made her home under a very nice log. She had a very happy life, but knew in her heart she wanted to go on a journey. Her friends, who she had told about her desire and who were very kind, told her that a journey was a good idea and encouraged her to go. Privately, however, they thought it would be very hard to tell when she had started since she moved so slowly. As good friends do, though, they supported her in the best way they could.

In a few days, a bird who had known her for a long time, asked her in a kind way if she had started on her journey yet. The snail, who was only about a foot away from the spot she was a few days ago, said that she had indeed started on her travels. After that, all her friends would fly down or hop over to inquire about her progress and to ask if she needed supplies.

Several days after that, it was true she had still not gone far measured in feet and inches, but her heart measured things differently. At night she would find a comfortable leaf to slip under, and each new morning she would stretch out her eyes in anticipation of the sights that the new day would present to her. Once, as she passed over a small patch of moss, she took the time to look at each stalk. She was slow moving, it was true, but that gave her more time to experience all she discovered. She caressed each pebble she passed over, its shape, color, and texture appreciated and memorized. Each new scent filled her senses for hours, its make up fully savored and enjoyed.

One night, while she slept under a leaf, it started to rain. It was a gentle and steady rainfall that made everything it touched uncurl itself to enjoy the moisture, rather than turn away to avoid it. The snail awoke and was drawn from under her leaf by the soft pattering rhythm of raindrops and the scents that had been released by them. The entire world, each pebble, sprout, and drop of rain, seemed to be bursting with something to tell her and she longed to find a way to hear it. As she moved out into the night, the rhythm of the rain that tapped on her shell made her bob a little as she moved along in her slow snail way.

Gradually, she came upon a puddle of water that the gentle rain had formed. The puddle had become smooth and shinning as the rain stopped, and it looked to her as if the essence of the message she was trying to hear must be gathered together in that brightness. She inched as close as she could to the edge, and then extended her eyes as far out across the water as she could. She saw that the shinning brightness of the pool was a refection, and as she lowered her eyes near the surface, she saw stars.

The stars were reflecting in the pool with clear perfection. She gazed at their beauty for a long time and then saw something else reflected there also. She saw herself. At that moment, she also heard the message, although there were no words: the universe was alive and she was part of it. The stars above her, herself, the water, and everything, were all one being. Each part had it's own rhythm that was expressed in texture, scent, and color, but all the individual elements were notes in the message she had heard the rain singing that night.

She slowly turned around and started back toward her leaf, and as she went she knew she would begin to find her way back to her log tomorrow. Her journey was leading her home, which is where all good journeys begin and end.

The End.