Ned isn't just any garden snail (he's Cornu aspersum, for the Latin enthusiasts among us). He's a lefty in a world of right-handers.

Most snail shells spiral clockwise, but Ned's curves the other way -- an unusual genetic quirk found in roughly one in around 40,000 snails. That makes him special, but also desperately unlucky in love... his reproductive organs don't line up with his right-handed compatriots.

Ned's predicament was discovered by Giselle Clarkson, an author, illustrator, and keen naturalist, who spotted his unusual shell while gardening. Realising what a rare find she had stumbled upon, she whisked Ned to safety, away from the sharp beaks of hungry birds. He now lives in a fishtank, his own private bachelor pad, where he waits with enviable patience for a soulmate with a matching twist. [exa.mn/xgq]

A mollusc with a mission

You might think celebrity snail is an oxymoron, but Ned has captured hearts across New Zealand and the world. His story isn't just about gastropod romance; it's about how humans connect with nature.

The search for a compatible mate for Ned has transformed into a nationwide exercise in what Clarkson has termed 'observology'. This isn't a scientific term, but a nice casual term for the art of really paying attention to the natural world). Families, schoolchildren, and amateur naturalists are being encouraged to slow down, look closer, and see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

And that's the real beauty of Ned's tale. While the internet is busy cooing over cats or debating whether dogs dream in colour, here's a snail gently reminding us that the natural world isn't just grand mountains and thundering whales. Sometimes it's in the garden, under your lettuce leaves, or (if you're very lucky) spiralling the 'wrong' way.

Life in the left lane

Ned isn't alone in his unusual asymmetry. Nature, despite its love of patterns, has a habit of throwing in quirks. Crabs can be left-clawed or right-clawed. Parrots show preferences for one foot over the other. Even humans, of course, produce left-handers, though thankfully our dating lives aren't dependent on it.

For snails, however, left-spinning shells are more than a novelty. They represent a genetic flip, a mirror image of the norm. This chirality (from the Greek for 'hand') is controlled by a single gene.

For the unlucky few like Ned, it's a biological roadblock to romance. Scientists are fascinated by this because it shows how one tiny mutation can ripple through evolution, affecting survival, reproduction, and behaviour.

Scenic route to fame

What makes Ned so endearing is not just his biology but the way he has become a mascot for curiosity. The idea of 'observology' is delightfully simple: 'stop rushing, pay attention, and you'll notice wonders in your everyday surroundings'. It's a timely message in a world where most of us spend more time staring at phone screens than flowerbeds. Me included, so I'm not judging.

Children, in particular, have taken up the snail search with gusto. Teachers in New Zealand are using Ned as a classroom springboard into discussions on genetics, biodiversity, and conservation. After all, if one tiny snail can inspire thousands to notice the extraordinary in the ordinary, imagine what might happen if we all looked a little closer.

A love story in progress

Of course, all this attention doesn't guarantee Ned his happily-ever-after. Even if a compatible left-spiralling partner is found, chemistry isn't automatic. Snails, like us, have personalities. Sparks might fly, or not. Nature doesn't always deliver fairy-tale endings.

But maybe that's the charm. And if, one day, Ned does meet his perfect match, it will be thanks to an entire community of humans who decided to look more closely at their gardens.

What can Ned teach us

Ned's slow but steady journey raises a bigger point, our relationship with the natural world often begins with small encounters. Spotting a bird outside your window. Noticing a new wildflower on your walk. Or, yes, turning over a leaf to reveal a snail whose shell spirals against the grain.

These little observations accumulate into care. And care for species, for ecosystems, for the planet, begins with noticing. The more you pay attention to what's there every day, the more likely you are to catch the unusual and the rare.

So, here's to Ned, the left-turning snail. May he find love at his own pace. And may we, in watching his story unfold, learn to slow down, look closer, and marvel at the quirks that make nature endlessly surprising.