Relative Something

I put in a few more miles on the bike yesterday, making my way down to the Rush River valley. That is such an invigorating drop in elevation from the flat farm fields to the bottom of the tree-covered, steep-sloped valley below. The road follows the river, with multiple low bridges where the water meanders back and forth until it gets confusing which side it’s on for a minute or two.

At the turn that leads to the Vino in the Valley restaurant, I paused for a brief chat with a couple of fly fishermen who were just about to head down to get their waders wet in pursuit of the perfect casting spots.

The restaurant wasn’t open; however, there were some people who were out shooting in the open field. I pedaled up the driveway, but wasn’t able to speak with anyone. I had guessed they might be skeet shooting, but it looked more like hunting for burrowing varmints at ground level. I chose not to interrupt.

I was hoping to ask about the giant teepee of large branches out in the middle of the open field. If that is for a burn, it is going to be one heck of a bonfire. Checking their calendar of events, I see they are holding a music festival on the 5th of September. Maybe it gets burned then.

Back home, in the afternoon, I did a little mowing in a manner I call “Cyndie Style.” We have company coming for lunch today, and Cyndie wanted the grotesquely tall foxtail grass and various weeds along the edges trimmed. It’s all been neglected because I’m trying to stay off the dead grass to avoid turning it into a dusty hellscape.

So, instead of methodically mowing entire sections with straight passes, I simply drove willy-nilly to any spot that had noticeable patches of tall growth while strategically avoiding any area of scorched turf. For the most part, I think it worked. Looks good enough to me for a drought-scape.

After the exhausting effort of sitting on the mower, or maybe it was the hours of pedalling earlier in the morning, I sat down in the yard with Asher. It didn’t take long for me to conk out in the chair. I’m happy to report that Asher was still there when I opened my eyes again. But we weren’t alone.

This was the sight that greeted me just to my left:

Was he trying to sneak up on me as I slept? I shuddered at the thought. At least snakes are much easier to spot in the scalded grass. I immediately pointed the snake out to Asher, hoping he would protect me from its advances.

He was entirely uninterested. Didn’t give it a second glance.

After a looong stare-down, the snake eventually did a 180 and rapidly headed for the cover of brush at the edge of the mowed yard. I reckon wildlife around our place must be putting a lot of energy into finding a drink of water lately. Maybe desperation led him to expose himself like that.

Extreme thirst can lead to some willy-nilly decisions, I suppose. I sure am glad my little nap ended when it did.

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