There's a snake in your mailbox

We have our share of snakes in Bittersweet Woods. Most are friendly; several are regulars. There is the milk snake that lives in the brick enclosure behind our newspaper box. A couple of summers ago, we found this note by the porch:

There was this photo captured by the mail delivery person who was concerned that the said reptile might be a copperhead. We were greatly relieved when my son-in-law Gregg correctly identified it as a milksnake.

Occasionally we find evidence that it still resides in the same place - snakeskin sheds, comments from our housesitter ("it was looking out at me from the mailbox"). One day this summer, I glanced at the patio and there it was crawling underneath the gas grill. I went out for a photo shoot. But that guy was not happy. It abruptly coiled up and was all business when it saw me. I quickly stepped back and gave it some room.

Then there is our resident black rat snake. It is about 4 feet long and occasionally appears out of nowhere, usually spread out languidly in the grass or staring at us when we open a storage shed where it sometimes hangs out. It is so laid back - I never have seen it get agitated in our presence. "Blackie" and I usually have a nice chat; I do most of the talking. It looks at me blankly, as if to say "really!" to anything I say.

Blackie recently appeared on our pool deck one morning. It's long black form was draped along the deck against the house. I thought it was a branch or something else - until it moved. Timing was not good. Family members had just arrived for a swim, including Joe, Judy, along with Luke and Johanna and their four kids. I thought they might freak out and was envisioning having to pick up and relocate Blackie.

I kneeled down and explained the situation to it: "Blackie, you really need to get off this deck. Humanoids - some youthful - are here; they may frighten you. And neither of us wants the stress of my having to move you out of the way. I mean, you and I are friends, but picking up snakes is stressful for me. You wouldn't like it either. So, you need to get your black rat butt out of here, OK?" Blank stare. I hoped the message got through.

I took a picture then went to greet the guests. I explained the snake presence. Fortunately, they were excited to see it and not at all skittish about having a snake around. They rushed out to the deck for a sighting. Blackie had moved on from the deck into the mulch. It was the best outcome. They were able to see it, and it kept moving and was soon out of sight.

We'll see Blackie around again, along with other critters, pets, and people in Bittersweet Woods.

My Friends Are Back

Summer is here, even if it is only mid-May. All of my summer friends are back, and there are a few new ones. Here are some of them.

Warm weather, a so-called fair weather friend, is great. May is usually warm but not oppressive.

The days are longer. The bad news is that in just a few weeks after the summer solstice, days start getting shorter.

Flowers and trees are in bloom. With warmer than normal temperatures, some wildflowers seem to be more prolific than usual. Examples include blue eyed grass with their striking blue indigo color and star of david. Marble sized apples and peaches dot the dwarf fruit trees. Should be a good crop this year - first ever for the new peach trees.

Blue-eyed grass

Star of David

Our woods is now in full vegetation mode. The trail is now a green corridor, masking much of the open vistas of the leafless winter months.

Wooded canopy along the trail

Birds are singing. Their early morning serenades give the new day a hopeful start. I especially enjoy the fluted melodies of the wood thrush. Rufus sided towhees with their black capes flit in the underbrush as we amble along the trail. I marvel at the improvised choruses of the mockingbird. Hearing the plaintive bleat of nighthawks just before daybreak is a sure sign of summer for me. A flycatcher nest, hiding in plain sight on the downspout of our house, is full of young about to fledge. Didn't see them until a few days ago.

Cicadas are starting to buzz. We see several abandoned larval shells from which the cicadas emerge each year. Hearing them reminded me that the 17 year cicada for our area will return in 2016. I tell Suz, who has a phobia about buzzing insects, about this. "I'll be leaving town then," she said resolutely.

Our snake buddies are around; they've never really left. Blackie, our resident black rat snake, hangs out in a plastic storage unit with flower pots. All 5 feet of it was draped across the trail the other day when Suz and the dogs walked by the wood pile. She also observed our garter snake by the patio; it even posed for a photo. A black racer appeared in the mulch near the driveway.

And, a baby black racer appeared in the garage. It was about the size of a large earthworm, squirming mightily as I rescued it from certain demise when our car pulled out. I noted the bright colored pattern of the snake but at the time had no idea what it was. The colors reminded me vaguely of a copperhead. I looked on the internet for "baby copperhead." This snake's picture appeared, labeled as a baby copperhead. That was ominous. If there was one baby, there would likely be more. Could one get into the house or be venomous enough to hurt or kill our dogs. But I noted the shape of the head. It did not look like a viper-shape. But what did I know? Not to worry; the picture was mislabled. On a suggestion from Suz, I looked up a photo of a black racer. It was an exact replica of the one we saw. Whew!

Black racer hiding in plain sight near driveway

Baby black snake

In three weeks, we'll be in Orlando for a family vacation. But that's getting ahead of ourselves. Today, we'll enjoy May and it's charms in Bittersweet Woods.

Visitors

We have visitors often in Bittersweet Woods. I call them visitors; most of them really live here - and we are the visitors.

A box turtle greeted Suz as she drove up the driveway yesterday. We moved it into the lawn. Ten minutes later it had disappeared.

We have had several snakes "visit" us this year. The latest resides in our newspaper box at the end of the driveway. It is probably a garter snake. Our newspaper delivery person left this message with our mail - which she left near the house: "I wanted to make you aware that there is a snake in your newspaper box; that's why your paper was not in there yesterday." The box in question is part of a larger brick enclosure. Apparently the reptile lives in a compartment behind the newspaper box.

Then we have Amy and Gregg's two dogs (Holly, a boxer and Zoey, an american mastiff puppy) visiting with us for the week, along with Gabbie and Tess. The Wentzells are vacationing in Hilton Head - without us! There will be lots of action here and a few extra piles of excrement to clean up.



Today, this beach scene image popped up randomly on my desktop. It reminded me that we visited Hilton Head recently. One morning we are standing on the beach at sunrise. Low clouds block the sun from our view. Suddenly the sun appears from behind the clouds. Lunge for camera. Pelicans fortuitously swoop into the frame. Click.



We are all visitors in this earthly life, and our real citizenship is in heaven. It is easy to overlook that on many days.

Snake Rescue

Every year, we hear of fish and sea animals becoming tangled in human trash - from fishing line to soda pop plastic bottle holders. Then there is the occasional video of a raccoon with its head stuck in a jar. I never expected such an event in Bittersweet Woods.

It happened on a Saturday afternoon recently. Our three grandchildren had just arrived for their annual week long visit. All of us started out on a daily ritual dog walk - their mastiff and boxer, along with our two old english sheepdogs. We ambled along the lower yard, headed for the trail along the creek.

I noticed a dark spot in the grass. Figured it was some yard detritus or a forgotten flower pot. Then it came more fully into view - a black rat snake with..........something. First I thought the snake had some prey wrapped up. Then to my dismay I could see that the snake was entangled in a ball of plastic netting the size of a soccer ball.

The snake was not going to live long in that state. It had only limited mobility, could not constrict any prey, and was likely unable to swallow anything. We snapped into rescue mode. I carried the snake to the house. Connor and Suz hustled after the tools needed to cut away the netting - scissors and fine cuticle scissors.




I held the snake while Connor cut away the larger outer netting cluster. The snake had become so entangled that cords of the netting dug were creased into its skin. Suz put on the most powerful reading glasses she has and went to work on the netting imbedded in the skin. In a few minutes, the snake was unbound; the last of the netting fell away.




Connor held it for the photo opportunity session. Then we marched down to a wood pile and released it. Fortunately, it seemed to move normally. It had probably been bound up for some time and may not have lived much longer.




The experience was unique, and gratifying. The grandkids had all participated, learned that snakes are not hostile monsters, and that humans can exert a negative
(and in this case, positive) influence on our natural environment.

It was one more lesson in life from Bittersweet Woods.

Survivor

Gabbie and Tess are playing normally again. Gabbie survived her period of forced inactivity; her incision is mostly healed.She is overjoyed to be free of the leash. The two are playing and running at breakneck speed once again. But sometimes they overdo it and need a rest.



As we began a trail walk with the dogs the other day, I noticed a day lily blooming. It's a reddish variety. It is a survivor in mid-August;day lilies stopped blooming a month ago. Day lilies are beautiful flowers; there are hundreds of varieties. We started collecting them about ten years ago. I didn't realize until last year that day lilies are called that because each flower on the plant blooms - are you ready for this? - for one day. This one was truly a survivor because it started blooming five weeks ago.

The survivor for this summers crop of day lilies

Other day lilies in Bittersweet Woods

One other flower is in the survivor category, too. Several spiked lobelia continue to bloom, nearly a month after they started to appear. Some flowers are slightly blue now, most others are still white. The plants seem to be everywhere, often in heavily travelled areas. I don't recall seeing them in previous years. Maybe it is because we've had much more than average rain this year. Or, maybe I was not paying attention....




One other aspect of survivor status was this toad, who did not survive predation. Gary the garter snake (see July post on Bittersweet Woods blog) was observed swallowing him. It's amazing how snakes can swallow prey so large.


It's all part of the natural goings on in Bittersweet Woods. Are you paying attention in your area of the woods?

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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