Hand in hand with your lover you walk through an olive field, you grab snails and throw them into a plastic bag. They are doomed, to be eaten at a dinner table.

Perhaps, going year by year to the same field and collecting the snails is more important than the snails themselves, important to uphold the tradition.

Two of the snails circle each other, dancing their last dance. Their choreography echoes symbols from a land far away, nowhere near the Mediterranean. The yin yang, a symbol of balance.

One of the snails is rarer than the other, nearly extinct, your lover signals you to put it back on the olive tree. One snail shall cook and the other shall survive, to balance it out.