A Slow Passion by Ruth Brooks: review Killing, controlling, obsessing - all this had left a dark stain on my psyche. It felt wrong. I felt wrong. There must be a better solution to the Great Snail Problem, and I felt a responsibility to find it. So begins a "summer of joy." Out of curiosity, Brooks enters Radio 4"s So You Want to Be a Scientist?, which aims to find the best amateur scientist in the country. Brooks submitted a simple question: does the garden snail have a homing instinct? And if so, how far will it travel to get home? Or to put it another way: "Could my meandering molluscs steer a straight determined line back to my dahlias?" Within a few weeks she was setting up a "lab" in her back garden, analysing data and, most frightening of all, getting to grips with Facebook. Some people dedicate their lives to these questions. I decided to dip my toes into their science," she writes. I was trying to cram a whole lifetime of research into five precious months. This retired tutor for children with special needs is an inspiration to the older generation - as well as the young. She shows how fun science is and that it is never too late to start learning. "This was turning out to be a most amazing summer," she writes. Every morning, I leapt out of bed with a spring in my step, and could not wait to start the day. I was happier than I had been for a long time. Once more I was doing the thing I most enjoyed: playing. And I was loving every minute of it. Brooks is a wonderfully eccentric scientist. "Often, I was certain my snails would drive me insane," she writes. Sometimes the reader might think they already have. She creeps around at night with a head torch and is caught red-handed crawling around in the rain looking for snails marked with "pale apricot bon bon" nail polish. I won't ruin the surprise, but a summer of watching snails turns out to be a lot more exciting than it sounds. Pottering around the garden can be a profound experience. Brooks is pulled into a meditation on nature by slowing down to the "mesmerising speed of snails." Living in the moment again, like a child, she has points of radiance, or what she calls "catching myself alive." "My snails taught me how to be still and once again catch my breath in wonder," she writes. Ultimately, Brooks finds it is much more fun to watch the snails than do battle with them. My discoveries held a truth. I wanted to tell the world that this research was not just about the homing instinct of snails. The implications were far, far wider. They were about my relationship with my fellow creatures and how I could live lightly on the planet without harming them. My snails were but the catalyst in my conversion. They had aroused deep thoughts within me, revealing themselves as unlikely symbols of sustainability. A Slow Passion by Ruth Brooks 256pp, Bloomsbury, t £11.99