I could hear Islagringo's voice in my head. The first rule of blogging is to be prepared to get the perfect shot to go with the appropriate essay.
And here was a blog moment slithering away in the beam of my flashlight. With my camera on the dining table.
I was out on the walkway around the laguna because I thought I heard the big male crocodile going through one of his mating rituals. Slamming the water with his head. Hissing like a giant lion. But I could not see him anywhere.
On the way back to my garden, I spotted this beauty. Thursday night it was the Mexican milk snake -- who has managed to survive despite his unfortunate markings that could easily confuse him with a coral snake.
And this guy? I have no idea. The markings are similar to a corn snake. But I have lost most of my snake identification expertise.
If my niece was visiting, she would know immediately. Her love for snakes even outshines mine. We probably would have been down our knees getting up close and personal with this guy.
As it was, I had to rely on the camera in my telephone. Too many things in my hands. Too far away from my subject.
Most people avoid the laguna at night. I suppose for good reason. There are things in the night that could severely injure the unawary.
But caution merely cuts down on the adrenalin rushes one can get each day.
Does anyone care to identify the snake?
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