It's So Hot . . .

. . .  that the snakes are going nekkid.

Just kidding--this is a usual occurrence. Our little greenhouse is a favorite spot for blacksnakes to shed their skins and I always love seeing them. This one's head was perfect with even the eye scales preserved. About a three footer--still a teenager, I'd say.

 

A Narrow Fellow in the Grass

The neighbors are awakening! This slender young blacksnake brought Emily D.'s poem to mind, though he didn't slide away. Indeed, I believe s/he had just emerged from his winter burrow--when I touched him with my walking stick, he didn't react. 

                                                                                      

You can see the dirt on the tail coming out of the ground. It was still pretty chilly, and he looked like I feel most mornings--Do I really want to get up now? 

A few hours later, the sun had done its work and the snake was gone. I hope he's hunting--that place where his hole is, is also where I've seen a couple of copperheads in years past. 

An Intricate Beauty

It caught my eye, the shed skin waving in the breeze.

We've has a resident blacksnake (possibly several) for years and they are most welcome as they are known to eat copperheads. He/she/they often shed their skins in or near the greenhouse. This one facilitated its skin shed by working its way under the eaves of the greenhouse--where it may be now. The current chilly weather likely has it curled up somewhere warm.

I love seeing the individual scales--if the head portion were visible, the eye scales would likely be intact. But if I tried to pull it down, it would just tear. So, I'll leave it to flutter in the breeze. Long may it wave. Copperheads, beware!

 

 

A Stubborn Snake

I was giving the greenhouse plants a quick watering when I found myself eye to eye with a young blacksnake enjoying the sun. I always know that there may be a snake around--but this wasn't the six-footer I usually see.   

I went and got my camera and when I came back, he/she was poised to strike at a daddy-long-legs almost invisible against the white wall. Great, I thought, watching the shiny forked tongue flick in and out, and got myself poised to catch the action. And waited . . .

And waited. Snake stayed frozen in place, like patience on a monument. Hmm, I thought, lowering the camera, just in time to miss the flicking tongue. Well, At least I can get a picture of the tongue action. 

I tried for fifteen or twenty minutes. Snake did not cooperate while I was aiming the camera but (and I swear this happened a dozen times) as soon as I would lower the camera, out would come the tongue. As time went on, the tongue action (while the camera was down) began to look like taunting, not just a quick flick in and out but waving around like a hula dancer's hips.

And I could almost believe that snake was grinning.

Snake:1   

Vicki:0   

In the Garden--Of Course There's a Snake

Thursday was a perfect day to transplant the last seedlings to the garden. Heavy rain yesterday left the soil damp but not muddy, and the air was gloriously cool. I set out watermelon and butternut squash seedlings in the lowest rows, below the corn.

 Added some more pepper plants to the box beds, as well as some black kale--puny litle starts but maybe they'll make it if bugs, bunnies, etc. leave them alone.

Something, alas, has munched off the tops of two of thee tomato plants. While we haven't sighted any deer in a long time, this makes me wonder if they're back.  Or perhaps a very tall groundhog? Gardening seems to be the triumph of hope over experience.  

A handsome box turtle was dangling precariously in this juniper -- I helped him down and moved him in the direction he seemed to have chosen.

1. Daylilies are beginning their month-long show. I'll be boring you with lots more pictures soon.

Layla was either unaware of or at peace with the greenhouse black snake who was relaxing in the sun.

Relaxing after a big meal. See that big bulge to the left of his/her head? Probably the chipmunk that's been eating the figs off the tree in the greenhouse. 

I like chipmunks. I like black snakes. I like figs. I like Nature and am okay with the way it works.