Slithering Signs of Spring

Supposedly, the groundhog went back to bed, but I sure see the signs of impending spring. Yesterday, I awoke to the sound of baby chicks pipping in our incubator and found one early bird who hatched a day sooner than expected. The fushia azaleas and yellow jessamine and forsythia are in bloom and Randy and I have been planting berries and fruit trees along with spring vegetables. It's all pretty blissful on the farm.

Well, so it seemed. I grabbed my egg basket and moseyed off to the coop to gather eggs. To my dismay there was a giant rat snake munching its way across my nesting boxes, its long tail draped across the shelf with conspicuous egg shaped lumps revealing it's progress.

Last year Randy discovered the snake above in about the same place. He kindly relocated him and we hoped he would content himself with mice and whatnot in the soybean field down the road.

Back to my blissful morning interruption. Since my trusty snake charmer, Randy, was not at home, I needed to farm wife up and take care of this before the snake ate all my eggs. I sprung to action, ran back to the house and changed into my trusty boots, grabbed a grabby stick and a garbage can and hollered at my daughter to come help. I ran back to the coop with her gingerly tiptoeing behind me (she never wears shoes). I ventured in and placed the garbage can in a strategic location and approached the snake. I could still only see about 3 feet of tail. I mustered up my courage and and pinched the grabby stick over it's middle? That only alerted it to my presence and put him on the offensive. He popped his very large head up out of a nest and looked at me while slipping through my grabby stick with ease. This is where my bravery left me. I abandoned my position and ran back to my daughter, who was apparently “staging” off at a safe distance.

Side note: This snake was huge! My theory is he is either the same snake we relocated last year after a growth spurt or his big brother.

After I finally stopped jumping in place, I formed a new plan. Since my house is in a constant state of construction, I knew there were two burly, bearded, builders nearby. I ran to the garage and beckoned them back to the coop. The snake had secured a stealthy hiding place and we timidly searched the straw covered space. The builders were pretty quick to assume the snake had slipped away.

Since I built the coop, I knew there weren't many escape routes, so I scoured the scene. I picked up a drawer and there in a dark corner was an even darker figure curled up in a ball staring at me. I exclaimed that I found him and ran to the staging area for safety. The builders reluctantly went in with my grabber and a shovel. Moments later, they stepped out with a six foot egg engorged serpent. Since relocation didn't seem to work we decided to send this sinister serpent back to the soil. The builders chopped its head off with a blow from the shovel and it spit a golden spray of yellow yolk. It was a gruesome scene.

Welcome spring, with your cycles of life and death, birth and renewal.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8