The heat was tropical.
Penetratesing dampness that left no body part untouched.
Not a day to take a stroll. The locals were wisely huddled on white Coca-Cola chairs fanning themselves with anything light enough to lift in the heat.
But I had some free time. A chance to get out.
With Jiggs at the house, I need to be around for the mundane (but essential) tasks of opening gates and helping him stand. Now that he is recuperating, I am free to stop worrying.
I decided to amuse myself with a walk around our laguna --a home for all kinds of lizards, insects, birds, and crocodiles. My trusty Canon accompanied me --just in case I had one of those blogger moments.
The local municipality has constructed a very nice walkway along the edge of the laguna. What was once residential back yards is now a brick path that winds through the bamboo, palms, and water hyacinths.
It is a great place to see nature up close. In the past, it would be exactly the place I would take Jiggs for a walk. (Despite this somewhat Rousseauean whimsical sign. I assure you: there is no Photoshop going on here.)
I had spotted a black and yellow bird that I could not identify cavorting on the fronds of a coconut palm. Just as I was focusing on it, I heard one of those primordial sounds that causes every corpuscle to stand still.
A rattle. With its very distinctive warning.
I have lived in the western United States and have been involved in politics long enough to recognize the sound of snakes. And this was a sound I had heard before.
A rattlesnake.
In my neck of the woods, when I have heard that sound, I was always wearing boots and long pants.
Not so on Sunday. Remember my comment about the heat? I was wearing sandals and shorts -- looking like an extra in a Spring Break movie. Perhaps, the evil dean, who is spying on the fun-loving students.
Standing still did not seem to be the best option. But where was the snake?
Nature has given humans very sensitive stereophonic listening abilities. We can pinpoint the source of a sound far better than our dogs.
I refused to believe my ears. The sound was coming from just above my head.
But "just above my head" was nothing but palm fronds.
I am no Marlin Perkins, but I know that rattlesnakes are not arboreal. If a snake comes hurtling out of jungles trees in a Tarzan movie, it is a python or a boa constrictor -- not some puny rattlesnake.
This is how my mind works at times like this. Inside my head a Sunday morning political discussion was taking place. Perhaps, a session of Meet the Pest.
Logic won out over fear. I started peering around the fronds to see what was making the warning rattle.
It was the coconut palm. Or, rather, it was the breeze blowing through one of the fronds. It was setting up a harmonic tremor that sounded just like a rattlesnake's rattle. Nature mimicking -- nature, I guess.
A good walk?
Of course, it was. Just like a combat mission, any walk that ends "And then I was home" is a good walk.
Penetratesing dampness that left no body part untouched.
Not a day to take a stroll. The locals were wisely huddled on white Coca-Cola chairs fanning themselves with anything light enough to lift in the heat.
But I had some free time. A chance to get out.
With Jiggs at the house, I need to be around for the mundane (but essential) tasks of opening gates and helping him stand. Now that he is recuperating, I am free to stop worrying.
I decided to amuse myself with a walk around our laguna --a home for all kinds of lizards, insects, birds, and crocodiles. My trusty Canon accompanied me --just in case I had one of those blogger moments.
The local municipality has constructed a very nice walkway along the edge of the laguna. What was once residential back yards is now a brick path that winds through the bamboo, palms, and water hyacinths.
It is a great place to see nature up close. In the past, it would be exactly the place I would take Jiggs for a walk. (Despite this somewhat Rousseauean whimsical sign. I assure you: there is no Photoshop going on here.)
I had spotted a black and yellow bird that I could not identify cavorting on the fronds of a coconut palm. Just as I was focusing on it, I heard one of those primordial sounds that causes every corpuscle to stand still.
A rattle. With its very distinctive warning.
I have lived in the western United States and have been involved in politics long enough to recognize the sound of snakes. And this was a sound I had heard before.
A rattlesnake.
In my neck of the woods, when I have heard that sound, I was always wearing boots and long pants.
Not so on Sunday. Remember my comment about the heat? I was wearing sandals and shorts -- looking like an extra in a Spring Break movie. Perhaps, the evil dean, who is spying on the fun-loving students.
Standing still did not seem to be the best option. But where was the snake?
Nature has given humans very sensitive stereophonic listening abilities. We can pinpoint the source of a sound far better than our dogs.
I refused to believe my ears. The sound was coming from just above my head.
But "just above my head" was nothing but palm fronds.
I am no Marlin Perkins, but I know that rattlesnakes are not arboreal. If a snake comes hurtling out of jungles trees in a Tarzan movie, it is a python or a boa constrictor -- not some puny rattlesnake.
This is how my mind works at times like this. Inside my head a Sunday morning political discussion was taking place. Perhaps, a session of Meet the Pest.
Logic won out over fear. I started peering around the fronds to see what was making the warning rattle.
It was the coconut palm. Or, rather, it was the breeze blowing through one of the fronds. It was setting up a harmonic tremor that sounded just like a rattlesnake's rattle. Nature mimicking -- nature, I guess.
A good walk?
Of course, it was. Just like a combat mission, any walk that ends "And then I was home" is a good walk.
