I intended to take a picture of my climbing roses and write about how they withstood the rain and hail to bloom gloriously. They I looked down and saw this fellow draped over the bottom rail of my rose trellis. One end was underground and the other under the porch but I got close enough to get this shot of his gorgeous skin. Turns out, he was in the same place this morning. I gave him a little poke with a stick and discovered, sadly, he is dead.
He’s a corn snake, also called a red rat snake, though not all corn snakes are red. They come in a rainbow of hues. Gardeners like them because they control pests like moles and mice.
It seemed appropriate to give him a proper internment further from the house since the scent invites the dogs to regard it as a chew toy. My plan was to pick it up with the rake and fling it into the woods but it was stuck. Carl came to help and we discovered he had been inside a tube of drainage tile and attempted to escape through one of the tiny holes at the surface of the ground, no doubt in the heavy rain on Tuesday evening. He made his body skinny enough to pull the first twelve inches through but that squeezed too much of bulk into his lower body. He couldn’t go either way and died. Sparing you the details of how, Carl extracted him. We laid him out on the driveway and he measured about 36 inches long, the lower two-thirds significantly fatter than the rest.
Hardly a day spent in my garden doesn’t deliver a basketful of spiritual lessons. Those roses grow wild because I don’t know how to prune them, reminding me that God doesn’t necessarily need my help or input. The corn snake reminds me that just because a place looks cool and comfortable does not make it the right place for me to be. Entering may turn out to be much easier than exiting.
I pray the day is kind to you and yours. peace & prayers, pastor annette