Green. Green. More green. That and cicadas. Literally tons of cicadas, all told.
The problem with late spring is that it’s essentially summer, lite.
Spring blooms so rightfully celebrated are all but finished until next year, while summer’s many highlights are still pending. There are, of course, happy exceptions.
But typically, to spy most anything remotely singular, one must look through the fresh sea of green rather than at it. That way, hints of life’s amazing diversity obscured until autumn’s hard fall again reveals all, might be seen.
Happily, my late life macro interests remind me how as a child I routinely spotted wild life that others beside me missed.
Turns out I’d not forgotten, merely neglected.
Old knowledge does indeed die hard.
For instance, I’m pretty sure this is a Dekay’s Brownsnake.
Can’t guess the last time I saw one. Decades for sure, as they’re quite shy and
basically nocturnal.
Lest the macro image disorient perspective, my little finger’s bigger 'round than that littler snake taking sun while curled up on a leaf…
Then poof, it was gone. Faster even than spring.
Speaking of decades, in the end I wandered a spot I’d not been since at least half a century prior. Then, the place was honeycombed by human trails cut through deeply congested acres upon acres of old oak choked by truly pernicious buckthorn that ran roughshod near a river not infrequently used as a sewer.
Stinkin' invasives.
Today these woods are largely a trailless stand of mixed trees, with a steadily rebounding river running through it and a reasonably sparse but exceptionally messy understory to better match its native character. It'd have to be mighty dry, to not be wet.
There being no ready sign of civilization, I found a well-trod deer path and followed that.
The muddy way was filthy with tracks. Multiple deer, of
course. Also racoon and maybe possum. An array of canine and given I spotted
but one other boot track, I presume mostly coyote rather than adventurous dog
walkers. In any event, all manner of wild life traversed the wet woods there.
It was good to wander off trail. I’d been absent far too
long.
Since I was on a deer path, it was no real surprise to either
of us when I stumbled across a deer. I spotted her in my peripheral vision upon
approach. Certainly, she’d heard me coming for a long way and chose not to
bolt.
I stopped. Instinctively assumed a passive posture. Offered a few soft words. Proceeded to take full advantage of the opportunity presented.
After a short visit I moved on. By then she’d returned to paying me no mind in the whole wild world. Which is only as it should be.
As it must be for all of us going forward, in every way we can manage, so for all of wonderous life to not stagger forward in pieces, but rather thrive anew as an organic whole.
Meanwhile, on the cusp of meteorological summer, I say here's to the seasonal safety found in lush green obscurity.
When, where, how and why everyone annually feasts.
Finally made it out to the FPDCC and the cicadas were all abuzz to see me. So much so that one got on the same bus as I, followed me to the back, and we buzzed all the way home. No snakes though.
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