Endemic snails in Tenerife - you too can find something rather interesting (and not even realise)

Oh to be back in the Tenerife sunshine. Never mind. I guess spring is not far away, and then there will be all sorts of interesting plants and animals to discover in this country. I really hope that you'll be enthused with whatever group you choose, and give yourself enough time to delve into whatever most fires your interest about them, and write about that in your notebook (I hope you find using your notebook in Tenerife has given you some encouragement).

This morning I have been researching which ferns live on the cloud-forested slopes of Anaga (at the north of the island, for those too unfortunate to have been on the fieldtrip). I want to make a guide so perhaps future groups can take quadrats to discover how fern species change along the trail.

I'm getting very drawn in into the world of the fern. Which is a good thing really. And likewise the other day I was inspired to try and identify some empty snail shells I'd spotted on a jaunt to some open ground near the hotel. Here's one of them - it's about the size of a Brown-lipped snail from the UK, but it's got the most amazing ribby sculpture.

I found a list of endemic Tenerifean snails and checking their pictures thought it might be Hemicycla plicaria. (I don't think I've found a list of non-endemic Tenerifean snails. But then again, the vast majority of land snails there are endemic. I guess you don't get a whole lot of genetic interaction between Tenerife and the continent when it comes to snails).

I was pleased enough with this discovery, but then ended up going down a rabbit hole of snail-related information. For one thing, it turns out that this species is really localised and rare - in fact it only lives in the area around Candelaria where we were staying (there's a map here).   It's apparently only within a 10km2 area. And so it gets on the Critically Endangered list of the IUCN.

So that's really amazing isn't it, and goes to show that you never know what you might find. Ironically, when we were about to set foot on the land to have a poke about, a local couple tried to put us off, presumably thinking we would like a nice stroll along the sea front, not a hike over some "waste ground" where they had just allowed their dog to relieve itself. I tried to communicate that we were "looking for animals", but they said there were no animals. How Wrong They Were. We found lizards, geckos, beetles and bugs, birds, - and a critically endangered snail, for goodness sake.

We might not have any endemic snails in the UK. But there are many species you'll never have seen before and will be surprised at. And if you're seeking a different group, who knows what interesting things you might find. Nature doesn't come with massive signposts. You'll definitely find interesting things that other people routinely ignore (to their detriment), and you may even find something very unusual (as this student did).

I hope you get motivated to get stuck in. And please do bring me things, as I'm always interested to see them and will do my best to help you work out how to identify them.

Some field notebooks from last year

Only part of Student T's excellent snail collection.

 I thought you might like to see some of the notebooks that were submitted last year.

They're called "field notebooks" because you're supposed to write in them in the field - so don't be precious about keeping yours all neat and tidy. Obviously you can't help bearing in mind that someone's going to look at it and mark it. But remember it's also there to aid your quest for knowledge. If you develop a habit of scribbling in it every time you pick up a specimen, you won't have to entrust your brain with all the details of where, when and what was about. The information will all be there, ready to help you with identification and labelling.

I admit it, I'm not too good at this habit myself. But it is one to cultivate. My favourite collection last year was Student T's snails. He got 13/15 for his notebook - the marker wrote "Excellent detail and diagrams - good note taking discipline". He found a lot of snails. He got very, very into it (he deserved his exceptional mark of 87% without a doubt). I admit, I found myself with Shell Envy when he brought in species I'd never seen before.

To jolly up your field notes, remember that "a picture paints a thousand words" - take a photo and annotate it. The pages above are from Student H's moss notebook. (She's just been in to collect her mosses and told me all about her ongoing moss-related placement in the Pennines. It sounds Amazing. She already has moss plans for her final year project. This is so gratifying to hear. I do hope some of you will similarly want to take your new skill further).

What's really lovely is if you can sketch a little diagram in the field (the markers love that) to give some similar context - the relative position of your seaweed on the beach, or the distinctive outline of your tree, or the way your mushroom was growing out of some rotten logs. This is detail and information that will be lost once you've spirited your specimen out of its habitat, but relatively easy to show with an annotated photo or diagram.

Another thing you could do is shown below - someone has plotted their finds on an aerial photograph. They've also given some reasons for why they tried the different locations (that they believed they would find different species living in woodlands, grasslands, and places with different types of soil).

Another important use for your notebook is to show the thinking behind your identifications. The writer of the  book below (it's snails again, you'll be thinking I'm obsessed) has carefully included
- the location and habitat
- the date
- a little sketch with measurements and whorl count
- a description of the snail's features
- and a run-through (with key couplet numbers) of a suitable snail key.
They've also got a little photo they've evidently taken through a microscope or lens.
Plus of course, they've recorded their eventual decision on the name of the creature at hand.
This is all very good.

The booklet below was kept by someone collecting spiders. It's quite interesting that they've stuck in a little aide-memoire table that reminds them to note different features like size, eye arrangement, type of web, etc. It's also useful that they mention what the spider was up to when they found it (in an orb web, wrapping up their dinner) - you really will forget this sort of thing unless you write it down in the field. I think maybe the page I've photographed is a bit thin on detail! But maybe it helps you get the idea. Overall they got a first. Considering you can get 15% on the notebook, making a bit of effort here really can make the difference to your overall mark.

Here's another appallingly out-of-focus photo from a more detailed spider notebook (apologies).  Hopefully you can see how a notebook can be both a bit messy and still contain lots of information. There's no need to spend time carefully copying stuff up neatly, or making it all mistake-free. Just record the things you find useful and interesting - the person marking it will recognise your effort.

Finally, below is a similar page from someone who did Hymenoptera (ants, wasps and bees). They've gone even fancier with coloured pencil. You might say, why not take a photo? But often you will find that a drawing is the best way to bring out the details that are important. We're used to seeing amazing photos on the internet and in nature documentaries. But taking them is actually very difficult. With a drawing you can focus attention on particular shapes, colours or patterns. Why faff about trying to photograph the claws on your beetle's tarsi (feet) if you can quickly sketch them? Don't be scared. This isn't the art class and there aren't extra points for... (whatever it is they hand out points for - I still don't really know even after being awarded a few over the years). Just try to make your drawing clear. And annotate it to make it even clearer. The markers will love it, and it'll help you absorb more information about your subject, in what I hope is turning out to be an enjoyable learning experience.

Photograph your specimens through the microscope

I sometimes think of myself as a bit of a Luddite eschewing modern technology (a student laughed at me on a field trip last year for actually using a paper map... I like to think he was sorry when his phone ran out of battery). But when it works I do like it really.

Today I finally got a microscope camera to talk to a computer. I won't bore you with the details because the important thing is that it now works and you can now come and use it. Getting the lighting right seems to be a fine art but I'm getting there. You can zoom in to the important features of your specimens, snap a photo, and then print it out and stick it in your notebook. I used it to identify two freshwater snails and I was very pleased.

They both came from a local pond lined with stone blocks (which apparently used to be where the local gentry washed their carriages - who knows). It didn't look like a very promising environment - it's pretty stagnant with more mud than water! But this actually made it a different sort of habitat to the usual ponds we visit - and so it turned up a species I'd not seen before.

You can see this species is very tightly coiled. It's only about 6mm across, and has 5+ whorls.

But also, it's very thin through - only about 1mm. I managed to hold the shell so you can see its aperture (which is pretty round).

So with these relatively few facts and a look at Collins 'Lakes, Rivers, Streams and Ponds', I identified it as Anisus leucostoma -  the White-lipped ramshorn snail. It doesn't care if the pond it's in dries up a bit: it can resist drought by staying in the mud. There's a similar looking species (Anisus vortex) but it's found in running water (and has an oval aperture) - so can be safely discounted I reckon.

For freshwater and terrestrial species I very much like the drawn illustrations in Janus's 'The Young Specialist Looks at Molluscs' (overlook the daft title) - it shows the shells from different angles (you can get a secondhand copy for about £5, or you're welcome to look at mine). The names can be out of date but that's relatively easily sorted (I might make a list to share).

The other species (in fact the only other thing alive it seemed) was a dextral snail (meaning its aperture is on the right if you hold it upright towards you). You can see the aperture is huge compared to the rest of the shell - it's about 3/4 the height. There's a little dichotomous key to Lymnaea (pond snails) in 'LRSP' - if you follow that (and look at the angle at the top of the aperture) you'll conclude this species is Radix peregra, the romantically-named Wandering snail.

I'm sure with a bit more experience with the lighting (and a bit of fiddling with Photoshop) you could make your photos even clearer. These snails were wet and I probably should have dried them to help with reflections and focusing. But I hope this encourages you that tiny things can be photographed fairly clearly. (You can also have a go down the microscope with your phone, with a steady hand).

Also on the subject of snails, did you know that because their shells are so persistent, they're used by archaeologists and people interested in past climates to work out what environments used to be like? You can see here that freshwater snails have been grouped according to their taste in habitat, so if they're uncovered hundreds of years later you can infer what it must have been like where they were living. My Ramshorn snail is in the (quite rudely titled) 'slum' category. One man's slum is another man's perfectly adequate muddy pond, thankyou. Also, 'catholic' doesn't refer to the snails' religious beliefs, but that they have wide-ranging habitat tastes.

 from Brown (2001) with updated names

So if you're collecting snails - or anything - the moral of the story is to look in a variety of habitats, and then you will find a wider range of species.

Your new skills can help make a difference

A lot of moths visiting a trap in Brunei, 1982. CC image Accassidy.

The other afternoon I was listening to Inside Science on Radio 4, and they had a piece about 'moth snowstorms'. That is, people were remembering when they would drive along in the countryside at night, and moths would be flying in from all angles into their headlights, and they'd have to start their windscreen wipers. It's certainly not something I've experienced in my lifetime. In fact it seems quite a mad idea, even though it must have been unremarkable not so long ago. Something that did ring a bell was motorcyclists saying they used to have to stop regularly and clean their visors of squashed flies. I can remember (in the 90s) saying to my dad that my friend's car was covered in gummy dead insects, and him complaining that it must have meant we were driving too fast. Some people suggest cars might be more aerodynamic these days, which might account for why gummy insects don't seem to be a problem. But that doesn't explain the visor thing - there'd still be insects on visors.

My point is, we seem to be losing insects, fast. Data from amateur entomologists' malaise traps suggest a loss of 75% in the last 25 years. I don't need to tell you that sounds pretty terrifying, when insects are a fundamental part of the food chain and pollinate a lot of plants (including our food plants). It was astoundingly refreshing to hear that the alleged environment minster, Michael Gove, has actually come round to the idea that neonicotinoid pesticides need stricter controls. One can only hope it's not shutting the door after the horse has bolted. You'd imagine spraying pesticides all over fields can't have helped matters, in addition to problems caused by other modern farming methods. So perhaps stopping spraying them might help restore some of the invertebrate populations.

A malaise trap. CC image Ceuthophilus. Nothing to do with uneasy-feeling malaise (though that may be for the insects), but actually invented by the Swedish Mr. Malaise in the 1930s.

Whilst this sounds like environmental doom and gloom (which yes, it probably is) - you have chosen this degree course so presumably want to try to make the world a better place. You can be part of the antidote to your own gloom. By developing your identification skills and submitting records to recording schemes and records centres, you can help make some difference. Your data can feed into a big picture which can persuade the powers that be to actually do something. This might not be a straightforward process because it involves politics. But having the scientific evidence has to be of critical importance, surely.

You might think "ah, what difference can I make? :( " But there really aren't that many people out there who have good identification skills. Particularly if you focus on something even slightly obscure. If you chose to go to a local habitat and record what you find, it's possible that nobody would have done that for ten, twenty years (or even ever). You might find something Really Interesting, and conceivably that could help get the site a modicum of protection one day. And even if you don't, it all becomes part of valuable data about today, and can be compared with what happens in future, and if records exist, with what was present in the past. (iRecord is an easy way to submit a record of anything you find, but if you prefer the support of a specialist scheme, the Biological Records Centre has a comprehensive list of contacts.)

Student A's lovely lichen find. CC image Jason Hollinger (California)

The other day, one of the third years popped in to see me. She chose lichens for her collection last year and got really into them. She'd been out lichen-hunting recently. When she got home and looked in her 'Dobson' guide, one of them seemed to be something unusual. The only species that seemed to match was a distinctive orange-grey lichen with little eyelashy spines around the fruiting bodies. But Dobson said it had only been seen in very few areas and was now thought extinct in this country. She had a tiny sample and we both squinted at it down the microscope. Nothing else seemed to match. I said I thought she should speak to David Hill, my esteemed lichen tutor from my course.

It turns out she was right with her identification and he was "super excited". Isn't that amazing! So this is proof that you too can find and report something excellent. She's brought something back from apparent extinction. I guess the poor lichen was never quite extinct in the first place (though it's evidently very rare) - but the point is, how many people are looking at lichens, and how many people have the skill to identify them? Not many. So your developing skills can make an impact. You can be one of an elite group that is knowledgeable and enthusiastic about lichens, beetles, mosses, or whatever it is that grabs you. We can only conserve things when we know they exist. You will be able to contribute to the body of knowledge of what's out there. Be encouraged.

There are links to over 200 recording schemes at the NBN Gateway.

For your Christmas list*: a hand lens

(*Other popular religious and secular present-buying opportunities are available. Or just treat yourself.)

I've just been to Dartmoor with the new first years. Likely you went on this trip yourself and will be able to recall the amazing Wistman's Wood, an eldritch botanical wonderland dripping with lichens and mosses. I think it's one of my favourite places.

CC image by Alex Jane

Students are obliged to spend some time collecting data about un-botanical things like wind speed. But whenever possible I tried to lure them towards close examination of the weird and diverse species covering the trees and boulders. A few people looked like they got seriously hooked, which was very gratifying. And I think the secret to an appreciation of lichens and bryophytes is a simple thing: a hand lens.

I wish I could present one to everybody but it seems university bean-counters are not keen. I can always lend you one (quality and smeariness varies). But ultimately I would urge you to consider getting one yourself. It doesn't have to cost much and it will last you a lifetime. Plus you will always have it to hand if it just lives in your bag. And you won't have any slight squeamishness about holding it right up to your eye after a dozen other people have had it in their clammy hands. Seriously, it will open up a entire microscopic world that you cannot really predict. I'd say it makes Everything more interesting - the unsuspected detail of plants and invertebrates and all sorts. But in the short term it'll certainly make your collecting a more interesting experience and make it easier to identify what you're looking at.

Like I say a million times, 'Hold it right up to your eye'. CC image from the National Park Service.

But what to get? Magnification of x10 is fine for most things. You can get twin versions which have (say) a x10 at one end and a x15 at the other if you're feeling fancy. Another thing to consider is the diameter. My lens is about 15mm across. Larger diameters are recommended.  I thought I was quite happy with mine but now I'm starting to wonder if a larger diameter wouldn't be better - it transmits more light and makes things easier to see.

You do want something that's of good enough quality that it's not going to annoy you with its blurry pointlessness. You don't necessarily have to spend huge amounts though.

This Quicktest page shows you how different lenses vary in quality (which is quite eye-opening) and therefore in price. They have a large range for sale and they make it very clear what you're getting. There are also many other reliable places, like the local company Brunel Microscopes, or UKGE, or entomological suppliers like Watkins and Doncaster,

 This is the one I have at the moment, from Quicktest, which is about £30 with delivery. It has a slightly larger size than most, so lets in a bit more light, and seems super clear - I'm really pleased with it. But you don't have to go that mad - something about £15 can be pretty decent, judging by the advice linked to above. Cheaper ones are a good way in but they're necessarily blurrier and more likely to fall apart. I bought a load of half-decent ones for work last year, but they're extremely pocketable and disappear constantly. This is disappointing and makes me loathe to spend as much again - but then spending less is a false economy if the lenses are rubbish. So if you're even half keen it's a good reason to get your own and look after it - it should last a lifetime if you don't lose it!

I'd also recommend getting a lovely bright lanyard to attach to it. Then it's much easier to find if you put it down somewhere or it falls into the vegetation. There's a huge selection on Ebay, for example. If you wear your lens round your neck you will recognise and be recognised by other natural history buffs, like some sort of weird masonic tie / handshake. This is not necessarily a bad thing: you might meet someone knowledgeable and interesting. Nerdy, probably. But nerdy about something interesting.

Public domain image by Bill Gillette - girl on a fieldtrip in the Rockies, 1972

A useful thought I read recently - when you're using it, think of it as a keyhole. That is, you must put your eye right up to it to see through. Either bring the object you're looking at towards your eye, or (often more undignified but unavoidable) bring yourself close to the object. The latter is why you might see lichen enthusiasts sprawled across the landscape, bums in air, apparently pressing their faces against the rocks.

And finally, it's possible to integrate this low-tech highly-useful bit of equipment with modern technology: with a bit of practice you can take photos through it with your mobile phone. And those would be perfect stuck in your notebook.

(P.s. - What's more, a lens will repay you handsomely on the field trip to Tenerife, where there are many fascinating plants with strange adaptations to examine microscopically. I much recommend getting one in readiness for that).

2016/17 collections: (mostly terrestrial) snails

I was very happy to see that some of my snail enthusiasm seemed to have rubbed off last year. There were quite a few submissions of terrestrial mollusc collections, and most of them got 2:1s or Firsts. I hope I'm even more clued-up to help you this year, because my sister and I went on a weekend-long course about them. Oh yes, a woman who once fretted over dirtying her white trainers is now grubbing about in the earth looking for snails. I call this a success.

I could rabbit on about our marvellous tutor June Chatfield (who's been teaching the course for longer than I've been alive, believe it or not), and the amazing things we saw - huge Roman snails, a bright yellow semi-slug, tiny tiny full-grown Vallonias only a couple of millimeters across, snails with hairy shells... I could go on. If you come to see me, I probably will I'm afraid. But it will be more productive to look at some of the more successful collections in an effort to inspire you.

This one earned a First. If you can overlook the slightly distracting spottiness of the board it was highly praised for the way it securely accommodates various sizes of tube. The marker wrote, 'The labelling is exemplary' (click on the photo to look closer). There are 16 different species. I was interested to note that the markers hoped to see a range of examples where a single species shows variation - like the stripey Cepaeas. Of course, you'd have to submit shells in good condition, because the beautiful pink, yellow or brown colouration is in the outer layer of the shell, which gets rubbed off / faded by UV light in empty shells.

Here's an excerpt from the same student's notebook. Its narrative style and clear demonstration of the identification keys was approved of. You can see the page above includes a drawing with a scale: the marker mentioned that more annotations would have been good. They also mention 'technical detail'. So I think you might take that it's good to explain what features your snail (or other specimen) has, and perhaps why that qualifies it as belonging to a particular family, or suiting it to a certain habitat.

Here's another collection that was given an excellent mark - 76%. I do hope those vials had labels inside them (or can you imagine the dismay if they fell on the floor). I'm sure they did. The colour-coded plan on the inside of the lid certainly makes the family relationships evident.

The diary was praised for its level of detail, with good diagrams, photos and maps.

Further snail enthusiasm

Clausilia bidentata. CC image Hectonicus. You too can find one of these.

I had a day off last week, but when my sister and I went for a walk, we couldn't help ourselves and started rummaging through the leaf litter for some snail shells. Yes, it seems my blog has inspired one person, even if it's not someone who has to submit a collection. I see this as a minor triumph.

Altogether, I now have about 22 species. That would make you a pretty nice collection. It's not too hard to find so many - mine have largely come from flowerbeds and leaf litter, with a few that are particularly fond of woodland or limestone.

I cannot help thinking of one of the more depressing collections of recent years, which comprised a series of garden snails (Helix aspersa) arranged in a supposedly artful spiral, with a variety of imaginative identities attached. You don't have to do that, it's just not necessary when there are so many species that you will be able to find.

I've just noticed that my copy of Cameron and Riley's 'Land Snails in the British Isles' is the first edition, so now there's a second edition, it might be that the keys are even more straightforward to use. But don't be downhearted if you get stuck - even Cameron says "It is to be expected that some material will be unidentifiable."

I'm building up my collection of labelled specimens (and I know the ones I'm most/less certain of) - so if you want to bring in your own, we can always compare shells and opinions - I'm sure we'll both learn something.

Snails in February... a report back.

In solidarity with aspiring snail-hunters I went for a wander around campus yesterday. I've got some observations you might find helpful.

Winter snail hunting is cold and it makes your hands cold and filthy and damp. Clearly you can't wear woolly gloves or you'd ruin them. But if you're feeling particularly delicate you might want to wear some lab gloves. I didn't wear any, but I might have felt slightly less apprehensive about the random slimy touch of cold slugs if I had. You're going to have to poke about through a lot of mud and gack.

In fact, the best thing you could have with you is a good stout stick - perfect for raking through muddy leaf litter and stirring up the dirt. I couldn't seem to find one, which meant I was at the mercy of spiky brambles, bits of glass and other unknowable debris.

Also you want a bag full of pots (for shells that you find in each location) and some sealable plastic bags (for handfuls of leaf litter that you can search through later). And a pen to label those things with your location. I've got plenty of pots you can borrow.

It'd help if your bag is waterproof so you can abandon it anywhere while you search - everywhere at the moment is damp. I've got a rather strange plastic box with a shoulder strap which is rather good (plus it's unsquashable so samples survive). You're inevitably going to have to put your knee on the floor, so something waterproof to kneel on is good. I mean you could wear waterproof trousers, but you're going to look odd enough as it is, so I'll leave that decision up to you.

CC image by Colin Smith

So I searched in the vegetation around the ponds by hand (difficult, and no luck) and I also hunted amongst leaf litter (productive) and amongst moss and around tree roots. I wandered down to the 'suds system' valley with the ditchy stream in the bottom - that's got a lot of long dryish tufty grass to stir through, and then there's piles of half-rotting vegetation by the stream itself. I know. I make it sound so glamorous and romantic. But I did find a few down there as well.

I think it may not be the easiest season in which to look. But there's certainly plenty out there and you will find decent empty shells as well as hibernating and lively snails. I brought my finds back to the lab. I thought I could easily pour some boiling water on the live ones to see how difficult it would be to extract them from their shells. It turns out I'm far to soft for that. Especially once they stuck out their cute little eye tentacles. There was no chance after that. But if you're as soft as me, I am confident you will still find enough vacated shells to produce a decent collection. Just make sure they're in good condition or you will confuse yourself (it's not helpful if they lack the mouth lip or shiny surface or even hairs that they should have... take it from me).

CC image by Santeri Viinamäki

You will need to measure the shells' widths and heights. For that a pair of vernier callipers is good - I've got some you can borrow so please ask. Also, it helps a lot if you can draw your snail, as it makes you realise how tight or loose the whorls are, and helps you concentrate on the shape of the mouth and relative pointiness of the spire, which are important identifying features. This is not easy if you're squinting at it through a handlens whilst trying to hold it. So I do recommend steadying your shell on a bit of bluetac. I had mine under a dissecting microscope (something you are welcome to come and use) and this was great. Other than one thing: the magnification makes little features like ridges seem so obvious that you wonder whether you're interpreting the key correctly. That's my only reservation.

I used a combination of keys - the Bristol key is pretty good but it's not got much detail, so where there are similar species you can't feel confident which one is correct (plus I noticed a problem for unstripey Cepeas). So Cameron's key was of most use. Plus I did look at the drawings in Kerney and Cameron and I should look at some of the photographic resources online (like AnimalBase).  I think sometimes the proportions of the shells are really important, and maybe that's something that's easier to "feel" with a photo than try to rationalise. That doesn't sound very scientific. But perhaps it's a good step on the way to Recognising your species - an expert identifier's brain puts together lots of clues at the same time. Yes I'm trying to get you to use keys, because without an expert explainer on hand to guide your every step this is definitely the way to start - it'll focus you in on what the important defining features are of each species. I realise someone who Knows Their Snails isn't often likely to be working through a key in their head, it's more about pattern recognition. But the whole Keys thing is probably a subject for another day. Meanwhile, back to the snails.

Places to search for snails

Snails generally want a bit of vegetation and some moisture, so if you choose this group, grubbing about in all sorts of places should turn some up (grubbing about = technical term I learnt on an invertebrate id course).

With this in mind I was reading this key to snails in Suffolk by Morton and Machin, which gives a nice selection of places to try, with the (sadly often out of date) names of snails you might find there. They note that of course these aren't 'exclusive microhabitats' but in reality run into each other. And that there a few unfussy species you might find anywhere. But it gives you an idea of the typical species that tend to prefer each habitat.... in Suffolk at least. But my main point is that if you want to find different species, you need to look in a range of places.

Here's their list:

CC image by Nilfanion

1. At the bases of rushes and sedges at the edge of water (do try not to fall in).
2. On reeds, grasses and other tall vegetation at the edge of the water.
3. In the damp grass of periodically flooded water meadows.

CC image by Derek Harper

4. On the foliage of nettles, tall grass, willowherbs, large umbellifers, as on roadsides.

CC image by Evelyn Simak

5. Under stones and in the cracks of old brick walls.

CC image by Maigheach-gheal

6. In the grass on the banks of streams and ditches.
7. At the base of the ground layer in hedgerows and overgrown ditches.

CC image by Seo Mise

8. Beneath and in cavities of crumbling and decaying logs.
9. On decayed stumps covered with moss and fungi.
10. On cut or fallen stumps or branches, in crevices and under bark.

CC image by Tony Atkin

11. On branches near the ground.
12. Drier leaf and twig debris.
13. Moss, fallen leaves, and damp vegetation of woodland ground layer.

CC image by Scriniary

14. In cultivated gardens, especially in overgrown and waste places.

CC image by Roger Jones

15. In dry places on grass, other vegetation and stones, especially near the seashore.

CC image by Bob Jones

16. Under saltmarsh vegetation fringing estuaries and saltings.

I've also had some luck poking about in the soil on top of ant hills, and in amongst soil and leaf litter generally. Many species have adults which are very tiny, so you have to get your eye in! You're welcome to look at my own collection for inspiration and I can tell you where I found them.

I love things in jars

You are always welcome to visit the collection of Things In Jars in OJ17. We haven't got quite as many as the Natural History Museum in London: they have 27 km of shelves ( you can go on a tour). But our collection still represents a wide range of creatures (including even some plants). I have little idea about the provenance of many but I do like to wonder how the more exotic ones might have ended up here.

CC image by Mads Bødker

You can preserve creatures in alcohol for a long time. Charles Darwin used the technique when he was on the Beagle in the 1830s, and his specimens still survive (here's an octopus he caught in St Jago, the Verde Islands). He popped it in 'Spirits of Wine', which was indeed made by distilling wine to concentrate the ethanol. But you don't have to go to that trouble: the university has a special license to purchase swirling gallons of the stuff tax-free, so I can give you some for your spiders or fish.

Naturally, if you've been pickled in alcohol for many years, you don't look quite as fresh as you did when you were alive. I do rather like the faded ethereal look of the specimens. However, you'll want to document the colours of yours before they lose them, or it might make your identifications that much more difficult. Spiders lose their colour remarkably quickly.

You'll also want to make sure your containers are properly tight, or you'll get the ethanol evaporating and leaving your specimen high and dry (this is good neither for your specimen nor your mark). I can offer a range of tubes though you might find others you prefer.

The concentration of the ethanol is important too - 70% is recommended (in fact once you start looking into it, a lot of things are recommended) and I can make this up for you.

Looking after a huge collection must be a massive job: this blog at UCL details their 'Project Pickle' to revitalise the specimens they own. Don't say 'pickle' to a museum curator though, it's far too casual :) This is a serious business. The entire UCL blog is very interesting and I recommend a look.

Snails as a resit suggestion

 I saw this photo of this 4th century mosaic (in the Basilica of Aquileia, Italy) and it reminded me that snails could also be a good choice.

CC image by Sailko

You don't have to use (and kill) "fresh snails" if you don't want to, although you can make life more difficult for yourself if you use very old abandoned shells, as they will have lost their colour and are more likely to be damaged - much harder (if at all possible) to identify.

Some of the snail collections this year (I thought) were really good - their creators had been out to a variety of habitats and so found a good number of species. Others weren't so good because they only contained a handful of species (submitting many examples of the same species isn't going to get you extra points).

I've been surveying plants at a local limestone grassland and I keep coming across snail shells (and live snails) - species you won't find in your garden.

Some species are a lot easier to identify than others. But once you've got a range to look at, you start developing an understanding of what the identification guides are getting at. There's one online at BRERC but I've found it much better to use it in combination with other resources (see here)
as some groups are particularly tricky and a range of descriptions to compare is helpful.
I've also bought a copy of this older book by Kerney and Cameron which you'd be welcome to use - the names can be a bit different but you can cross-reference with Cameron's newer book (which I also have a copy of).

You could come in and view your specimens under a dissecting microscope - it's useful to see the fine sculpturing of the shells. Or otherwise you will really need a handlens for the smaller species.

More snail musings

It seems that snails are my latest Thing. I hope you feel enamoured with your own choice of flora or fauna. I do hope you've found something that sparks your interest.

I've been scrabbling about in the flowerbeds again and I'm pretty confident that I've found Trochulus striolatus, the Strawberry snail.

Photo from AnimalBase, taken by Welter Schultes.

The shells are hairy when young... did you know that snail shells could be hairy? This paper suggests it's an adaptation that helps the animals cling to food plants in wet conditions when they could otherwise fall off (which would require a tiring climb back up again, that a small and hungry snail could do without). Who knows.

Also I think I have a Oxychilus draparnaudi or Draparnaud's glass snail. You can see how the last whorl gets bigger much more quickly than that of the strawberry snail. Monsieur Draparnaud was the snail man in France in the late 18th century.

also taken by Welter Schultes.

There are several more I found, but I won't go on. Suffice to say I still think it's a good choice for a collection. Though this evening when I went through the specimens one of them was really stinky.  I poured boiling water over them but it just made a sort of stinky broth. I don't remember Mr Adams mentioning stinky snails, it did put me off a bit.

Perhaps this points at the need to use fresh (alive) snails and kill them. This seems a bit mean when there are lots of empty shells around. All the shells I've collected so far have been empty, and I know it's possible to identify lots of species from these. But some identifications rely on the colour of the snail's body, or the glossiness that only a fresh shell has. Besides, at the moment it's rather early in the season to see any live snails at all. So I'm going to keep going as I am, and then at least I'll have some tentatively named empty specimens to compare with live ones later on.

I was watching Ray Mears this evening and he was talking about how marine molluscs were a popular snack for people in this country thousands of years ago. He sat in a Scottish rock shelter looking out at the rain, in a spot where Mesolithic hunter-gatherers had sat and chewed on their shellfish - a huge midden of shells had accumulated in front of it. The woman who had excavated the site showed him some of the limpets she'd unearthed - they were 9000 years old but didn't look particularly worn. It made me reflect that where you find a shell isn't necessarily an indication of where the species lives today. Found empty shells are ok as a way to practise your identification skills but they're not really a current biological record. Perhaps this distinction should be noted on a specimen's label.

A shell midden being eroded by the River Ythan near Aberdeen. Photo by Martyn Gorman.

On the other hand, environmental archaeologists (specifically, palaeomalacologists) are pleased to find ancient shells, because it helps them infer what an environment was like in the past. Archaeological reports often have a section on snails as the species present will suggest whether a location was wood or meadow, damp or dry, and perhaps so shed light on the lifestyle of the local people.

The Lapidary snail

At the weekend my sister and I went for a little stroll on one of the limestone hills around Bath. I was there for a recce for my impending MSc dissertation. That will be on the plants. But naturally I got distracted.

We were poking about amongst the boulders (the site has been much quarried for the stone that built Bath's famous architecture) and I found a strangely shaped snail. It's rather flat and has a curious trumpety opening (aperture). It also has a distinct keel (it's 'carinated'). The surface is very textured.

I used this key from BRERC to identify it (it was relatively easy, which was encouraging): it's the Lapidary snail, Helicigona lapicida. 'Lapidary' means to do with cutting rocks or precious stones. My Victorian snail guru Mr Adams says "The name stone-cutter" is due to its supposed habit of boring into rocks. The idea is, of course, erroneous, but it does ensconce itself in crevices of rocks, whence it emerges after rain."

I will be using the word 'ensconce' wherever possible today.

Other theorists (the author of the eminently tattooable title 'Shell Life') have it that the species looks like a grinding wheel for polishing precious stones (like this one). Also pretty believable. But why should you care about etymology? I can only suggest that knowing all this might help in remembering the creature's Latin name. Which is essential if you're to impress fellow naturalists.

Something seems to have made a home in the central 'umbilicus'.

The species belongs to the family Helicidae, which includes the more rounded and familiar species like the Garden snail Helix aspersa (shells of which I also found):

CC image by Sid Mosdell.

and the beautifully colourful and variably stripey Brown-lipped snail Cepaea nemoralis:

CC image by Mad Max.

There were also shells of the White-lipped snail Cepaea hortensis,  

CC image by Martin Cooper.

the very flat and tiny Rounded snails Discus rotundatus,  

CC image by FW Schultes.

 and maybe a little Vitrina pellucida, a transparent 'glass snail'.

CC image by FW Schultes

And all these from a short while poking about in the leaf litter on top of the rocks. So I think a snail shell collection could be very viable if you're still looking for something to choose. Looking back through this blog I've found and identified 11 species without too much strenuousness or pain - I wasn't searching very hard either. You could easily collect far more with a bit of application. The smaller ones benefit from a squint under the microscope, but even the larger ones are more interesting when viewed like that - you're welcome to bring yours in.

P.S. For some snail-related amusement I recommend a book I found recently: The Edible Mollusks of Great Britain and Ireland, with recipes for cooking them from 1867. The terrestrial snail recipes don't seem to have caught on in this country for some reason (mucilaginous broth, anyone?) but the book is padded out with meals made of marine molluscs, which for some reason the British seem relatively happy to eat. I'm not sure what the difference is really. This would seem to be a question for an anthropologist.