There is no mistaking the sound of a snake slithering over dry leaves.
The sound will find sight pretty quickly to prevent a tread on an often overlooked Eastern Garter.
Here, one slipped quickly beneath a web of linked fence lining lawn and wilderness.
The snake and I paused in appreciation.
It then removed to a pile of grass clippings and leaves at the base of a pine.
In time, satisfactorily sensing the situation with a peeping head and tongue, the snake proceeded to carry our sunny encounter over a shadowy earth.
The hill is well-suited for feeding on salamander and worm.
There’s a lot of sun above and water below.
I fully expect to see a garter’s return.
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July 2, 2010 at 10:47 am
There certainly seems to be more activity along LCC than I remember in years past. Maybe because I’m paying more attention. Lately, nature’s persistence seems to be helped out by people along the creek’s path–planting, restoring little patches of wetland, even encouraging nesting. I wonder if the presence of one animal, like the mallard for example, has a ripple effect of attracting others to the area. And, for sure, there is a bustling soundscape throughout the blinking lights of fireflies every night.
June 29, 2010 at 12:28 pm
G, you continue to illustrate that, despite the efforts of man nature persists. Having spent much time along the LCC, I am always pleasantly surprised by what thrives among the invasives (the human type that is). It would seem as though you have been bitten by the call of the wild so to speak. Have you tried tenting out to see or perhaps better hear what prowls in the night? Maybe fun, let ol’ Natty know if you need a partner.
hawkeye