It’s a foggy, gray day, but because tomorrow is the full moon, there’s a minus tide (extra low) which makes for an especially fabulous beach walk.

So my trusty dog and I set out this morning to see what we could see that we don’t normally see. It didn’t take long to find something special. I was specifically looking for something to inspire a full moon post, so it was perfect that I encountered a living moon snail. Until now, I have only found the bleached empty shells, never a live one. Though that isn’t exactly true, because last year I brought home a lovely white specimen and left it on my bathroom counter. The next day I was very started to see a hermit crab edging out of it. (I promptly whisked the crab outside and back to the beach!) The living snails are much more colorful and exciting to meet.

With a diameter of up to 5 inches, the moon snail is very distinctive. It likes to bury itself in the sand and hunt beneath the surface for unsuspecting clams—or perhaps they do suspect the moon snail and retreat as fast as they can. Clam shells found with a round hole drilled in them were probably devoured by moon snails. When the snail extends its fleshy mantle, it expands to many times the size of the shell. Then it can retreat back inside itself by squeezing out its water as it winds back inside. (Crabs will in turn hunt moon snails, so they are in the middle of the food chain, both predator and prey.) Attached to the body of the snail is a thin horn-like oval object called the operculum, which acts as a door which the snail shuts after itself once safely inside. Quite the clever design.

My other interesting sighting was a number of unusual moon snail sand collar egg cases. (Well unusual to me, anyway.) The eggs are actually sandwiched between two membranes made of sand and mucus and look like old pieces of industrial rubber about a foot in diameter. Moon snails are also found on Atlantic beaches, but our variety is Lewis’ moon snail, named for Meriwether Lewis, of the Lewis and Clark expedition, who returned with shell specimens from the mouth of the Columbia River on the Oregon/Washington border. Being one of the largest shells on these beaches, moon snails are always thrilling to find.

CONTEMPLATIONS

• What protective mechanisms do you employ to retreat from threats?
• Are you able to withdraw from life when you need to renew yourself?
• Do you escape into some sort of shell? Would you like to?
• Do you ever sense that you’re part of a metaphorical food chain? Perhaps in your work life?
• How does that make you feel?
• What activities make you feel predatory?

Make friends with a different shell here.