Oh, what we see when we encounter nature. Little windows into the harshness of the wild. The food chain, the dashed hopes of the concerned. I was tipped off to this little episode by the frantic sounds of a songbird. Normally sweet. But this day was pure panic. A parent watching their life’s work go away.
From what I can see, I believe this to be a bull snake. Winding its way into a meal. A birdhouse, one of many strung along a rail line for as far as the eye can see. I approach, make the picture and the snake is alerted, tucking it’s end inside the box and spinning to face off with me. From the darkness the flicker of a tongue.
Have been around nature my entire life. Have seen life and death and life again, time and time again, but it never lessens the impact of watching such a move, such cruelty unless you are the snake. The silent slithers of something that cannot be undone.