What's that on the tree?

Last Sunday was unusually perfect weather for July in the midwest: 70's, low, humidity, clear air rather than the summer haze. The sun shone laser-like through the tree leaves. We took Gabbie and Tess for their daily walk down the trail. There were the usual wildlife sightings: spider webs in our faces, chipmunks, and a white tail deer that led the dogs on a spirited diversion. A towhee and wood thrush sang tentatively, as though mindful that birds stop singing in July. A mosquito buzzed around my left ear.

The waterfall toward the southern end of the trail was merely a trickle. We often stop to do trail maintenance along the way. Yesterday we rearranged some rocks in the stream below the waterfall to restore the main channel after a flooding rain in June. The roaring flood dislodged huge rip rap logs that we had carefully placed to protect an eroding stream bank. They were whisked away like paper cups and piled up in a literal log jam about 200 yards downstream, just above the falls. Mother Nature does have the final say despite our imaginings to the contrary.

We puffed up the steep trail from the stream and headed back to the house. The view of the creek and opposite hillsides are always beautiful, always different depending on time of day, season, weather - and my attitude at the time. We approached the end of the trail, walking along stepping stones, passing near some large trees. My thoughts drifted to remaining chores to be done.

And then...I saw it. It's on the tree. I called out to Suz, a few steps in front of me and an arm's length from the tree in question. "Stop!" I motioned furiously and barked "Step back this way," so she wouldn't be frightened. She looked curiously at me, and I pointed. A four foot long black rat snake was draped vertically on a maple tree trunk. The head was down toward the ground, staring expressionless at us. The body was clinging somehow (with the scales as grippers, presumably) to the tree. We gawked. The snake froze. The dogs looked at us quizzically, expecting us to continue on; they did not notice the snake. Suz ran to get the camera.
(click to enlarge)

When she returned the snake was still in the same place, posing as it were for a picture. I snapped several pictures, still in disbelief because we'd never seen a snake climbing up or down a tree! We left and came back a few minutes later with the dogs, who were once again oblivious. The snake was slithering down the tree and into the brush. Once glance later it was on its way. We went our way, grateful and amazed at another close encounter with mother nature - in Bittersweet Woods.


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