Relative Something

Before the monsoon rains began pouring down on us yesterday, I hustled down to finish raking the path where I had done the trimming on Tuesday. I took a couple of before-and-after photos…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Late last year, I came up with a plan to leave the cuttings lying beneath the fence wires to smother or stunt future growth there. This will be a second chance to test my idea. The first try wasn’t very conclusive, so I’m hoping this will give me a bigger sample size from which to judge the ultimate effectiveness.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The green grasses and a multitude of other random plant life common in our region are pretty persistent about sprouting anywhere and everywhere, whether welcomed or not. It would be a sweet victory if simply leaving a mat of cuttings proved successful in keeping our fences from repeatedly getting swallowed by tall growth.

While yesterday’s rain was pouring down, I busied myself with woodworking projects beneath the roof over the shop entrance. When I finished and was closing the door after putting everything away, I found a milk snake slithering along the rocks of the lower portion of the wall. It stopped when it noticed me, putting us at a standoff.

I closed the door, hoping it wasn’t planning on going inside to get out of the minor flooding going on around the building. Then the snake began poking its head into the mortar between the rocks, as if it was looking for an opening. Apparently, it had overshot its door, because when it folded around to poke farther back along its body, it found a tiny hole I couldn’t see and swiftly disappeared inside.

I immediately opened the door to see if it had just slithered right into the shop, which had me thinking I was never going to work in there ever again. I didn’t see any sign of the snake, so I guess it lives in the walls.

That wasn’t the least bit comforting. I can only hope it is controlling the mouse population most likely responsible for making those little holes that provided access to the structure in the first place.

I love the outdoors and wildlife, but I really wish I didn’t have to share space with mice and snakes.

I’d consider plugging that hole I saw the snake slide through if I didn’t believe it would force the snake to eventually come out of the wall into the shop.

I am not a fan of snakes. Not even a little bit.

.

.