Wednesday, July 17, 2013

LUCK AND DRAGONFLY LIGHT


Yesterday, on the way home from grocery shopping (the l-o-o-o-n-g way, naturally, because we ramblers always favor indirect routes) I saw something tiny wiggling on the rural blacktop. It took my heat-addled brain a moment or two to process that what I'd seen was a small snake. By that time, in spite of my leisurely speed, I was already past the diminutive creature. As the day was hot—94˚F last I'd heard—I knew the road's surface would be scorching and figured I'd give the struggling little serpent an assist. There was a pull-off place a quarter mile beyond where I could easily turn around.

Of course, as fate would have it, that very moment an oncoming car appeared over the hill—coming fast. No time for a quick three-point turn on the narrow rural lane. And my frantic waves at the auto's driver simply elicited a friendly wave back. 

Helpless, I watched in my rearview mirror as the vehicle's leftside wheels passed over the center portion of roadway where I judged the snake ought to be. Fearing the worst, I turned when I could and went back. 

The miniature common watersnake, smaller in diameter than a pencil and perhaps 5-inches long, lay belly-up. A shiny newborn, squirming to make its way into the wide world. Only the edge of the car's wheel had clipped a half-inch portion of its head, though still sufficient to be fatal. Bad luck on top of bad luck, because we probably accounted for the whole of the road's traffic over the entire morning. 

I moved the snake onto the shoulder where some other creature might chance to wander along and be happy for a free meal. Then I continued the quarter-mile down the road to the pull-off, ambled over to a pool of water that's more puddle than pond and, in one of those fortuitous moments of magical light, made the dragonfly shot above of a male Halloween Pennant.

In photographic light and crossing roads, luck is important.        

12 comments:

Gail said...

Hi Grizz - I love that you were going to save that lil snake. And that you went back and brought it off the road.
We stop for turtles often found clopping along the roadway.

And the picture of that dragonfly is amazing. You really capture the truth.

Love Gail
peace.....

p.s. I know that reading and books are a very personal choice but may I suggest "The Storyteller"

The Solitary Walker said...

Nice little piece, Grizz. And that dragonfly shot is superb!

The Weaver of Grass said...

Sad about the little snake. We get that all the time with baby rabbits on our lane - they play chase with no idea about the odd car that comes along. Such short lives.
Lovely dragon fly.

Grizz………… said...

Gail…

I brake for critters in general—turtles, snakes, injured birds, whatever. If I can help, I do, in whatever way possible.

Several years ago, when driving up I-75 north of Ann Arbor, I saw this big old dog trapped in the medium by the traffic. It was obviously frightened, knew it couldn't get back across the stream of trucks and cars…yet knew it couldn't stay where it was, either. I was heading north for a couple of weeks camping and trout fishing in the U.P. around Lake Superior. My truck was loaded, but I pulled over onto the grass, opened the passenger door, and called the dog—who looked at me a moment, then trotted over and hopped in. I drove to the nearest highway exit and followed the roads back to where I figured I was about opposite the point on the freeway where the dog had been. Then I started knocking on doors. It took me nearly three hours, but I found the dog's owners who lived on the other side of the Interstate, and were frantically searching for their pet. I still had 500 miles to go, but saving that dog and getting it back home made my day.

BTW, I'll check out the book.

Grizz………… said...

Solitary…

Thank you…on both counts. The pix was just a fluke of magic light.

Gail said...

HI again - oh my, that is a heart warming story about the dog. Thank you for sharing.
Love to you and high regard
Gail
peace......

Grizz………… said...

Weaver…

I don't think most folks ever realize the toll cars take on local wildlife. I didn't until some years ago when I began fishing long, looping sections of certain bass streams—the drill being to park at one bridge or pull-off, fish several hours up or downstream…then follow the country road shortcut back to where you'd parked. That way you might be able to cover two miles of stream for a half-mile walk.

We're all probably aware of larger creatures hit and killed by traffic—what we see flattened on the paving or heaped on the shoulder. But walking those rural roads revealed how very many small birds—invisible at 55 mph—are also dead in the nearby grass, plus mice and voles, chipmunks, rabbits, squirrels, and countless snakes. An astonishing revelation.

Grizz………… said...

Gail…

One of these days I'll write up a really astonishing true dog tale: The Ghost Dog of Vesuvius Lake. I can't tell it in a short post and do it justice, but I'll just do the piece and post it anyway when the mood strikes.

Gail said...

I wait with baited breath..........

Grizz………… said...

Gail...

Better go ahead and breathe. I'm slow.

Scott said...

The water snake was out of luck that day, alas. But, you did get a fabulous dragonfly image. And, its common name is great!

The story about the dog in the median was wonderful. Kali and I likely would have tried to do something similar. Good for you, Mr. Samaritan.

Grizz………… said...

Scott…

Yup, that little water snake just had a bad day all around. And the the dragonfly shot was just the luck of the light…I took a dozen others all within a few seconds, and this one had the magic.

I've hunted and fished all my life, and just about as often, recused various critters. Lots of dogs, actually, but that one up in Michigan was just special somehow—maybe because he appreciated it. No question. Now, you go chasing down a blue heron on a sandbar, a horned owl in a barnyard, or redtail hawk tangled in something (fishing line, barbed wire, 6-pack plastic))—just trying to do your good deed for the day, and you might get near pecked and punctured half to death for your trouble. Oh, and gulls, loons, coots, too. Plus big snapping or soft-shell turtles, raccoons, and a house cat with its head stuck in an empty peanut butter jar. And dozens more. There are plenty of times when the rescuer needed rescuing!

But as a friend remarked to me once after we'd managed, with only minor personal mayhem and the occasional moment of terror, to yank/drag/wrestle free a fair-sized black bear that got its sorry self wedged beneath a Volkswagen Beetle, "Hey, once we're healed up we'll look back on this and think it was fun."

I've often wondered whether the bear remembered it that way…