1st Day Hike – January 1, 2025 – James River State Park

Wayne and I began going to Virginia’s state parks each New Year’s Day two years after the “1st Day Hike” program was started. While we never participated in the ranger-guided hikes that were offered at each park on January 1st, we always enjoyed visiting and exploring on our own.

In 2014 we went to Douthat State Park:

In 2015 we went to Smith Mountain Lake State Park (and it was really cold & windy!):

In 2016 we went to James River State Park:

In 2017 we went to High Bridge State Park:

(This was our first trip there, and it’s called “High Bridge” for a very good reason!)

On January 1, 2018, the temperature was in the teens, and the windchill was making it much colder. We knew we wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time outside, so instead of going to a state park, we went for a drive along the Blue Ridge Parkway. We got out of the car a couple of times, but since it was 14 degrees we didn’t stay out long!

We went back to James River State Park in 2019, and that was the first time we got a “First Day Hike” sticker.

While we did lots of day trips and camping trips to our beautiful state parks in every season over many years, our last official “First Day Hike” together was on January 1, 2020 when we visited Douthat State Park again:

This year I really felt not just the desire, but the need to restart the tradition of going to a park on New Year’s Day. Since adventures are usually best shared, I reached out to several different female friends to see if anyone would want to go with me, but everyone already had plans. Alrighty….

I decided to go to James River State Park because it’s the closest (at about 60 miles), plus I wanted to get a new jacket in the visitor center gift shop. It’s also the park that Wayne and I went to most often on day trips, plus we camped there.

I left home around 9:30 am, and when I started the drive down Rt. 29 South, I was the only car on the road for the longest time. That’s not something you see very often.

Just south of Lovingston and Colleen, I turned left onto Tye River Road. This pretty route crosses the Tye River and then runs beside it for a while.

After turning east onto Rt. 60 several miles later, I was surprised by how happy I was to finally see the James River again! The James is Virginia’s largest river. Formed from the confluence of the Jackson and Cowpasture Rivers in the western part of the state, it ultimately flows into the Chesapeake Bay at Hampton Roads. We’ve visited this historically-significant river in so many different places in the state over the years, and I’ve loved all of its manifestations and moods.

Once in the park, I went to the canoe launch area first, just for a few up close and personal minutes. Hello, you big ol’ beautiful river….

I then drove through the section where there are a number of cabins, and I was delighted to see that several of them were occupied. Some of the larger cabins (or lodges) seemed to have multiple families staying together in them–what fun! I also wanted to re-visit the campground, but unfortunately the gates were shut since it’s closed for the winter.

Next stop was the visitor center. I always enjoy looking at the exhibits–and I did buy a new jacket (it’s the green one).

And every single time I’m at this park, I photograph this sign because I agree with the sentiment:

There were going to be two different guided hikes leaving from the visitor center at noon, and this wasn’t something I planned to do. Like seriously, not what my significantly out-of-shape self was there for! But when one of the rangers said that the “Wetlands Hike” was primarily flat, I decided to try it, even though I was certainly the oldest person in that particular group. (Now I guess it’s possible that in dog years a 13 year-old long-haired dachshund named Ruby who was in my group was “older” than I am–but her “parents” said she’s been to 16 state parks so far and she doesn’t seem to get tired unless the hike is longer than 3 miles… Alrighty…)

In all the times that we visited the park, this is a trail that Wayne and I never explored. The first part was down hill from the visitor center (so I figured the last part would be up the same hill…) but it did level off near a pond where there were cattails and a beaver lodge:

There were several horses and riders in the park (yes, that’s a most excellent way to “hike,” I’d say) and our group stood quietly to the side of the trail to let them pass.

After leaving the pond, the next part of the trail was along the river.

Our guide stopped frequently to share information about various plants or animals, but oddly, this time I didn’t see hawks, ducks, geese, herons, or any wildlife other than some tiny birds and a few vultures.

After a long stretch along the river, the trail curved to the left and we found ourselves at the far end of the pond. I didn’t take any pictures, but there were several trees there that had been taken down by beavers, leaving triangular stumps. (Fun fact: Beavers are the largest rodent in North America, and the second largest in the world. The largest is the capybara.)

After a minor uphill trek (pant, pant), we completed the loop around the pond. I paused to take a picture of my totally wind-blown, hat-haired, not-dying-yet self.

I then asked Ruby’s “dad” to take a picture of me, which he did. All my layers (shirt, sweater, scarf, coat) felt quite good in the shady sections of the trail, especially when the wind was blowing (it was in the mid-40s when we started), but it was much too warm in the sun. By that time, though, I figured it was easier to wear it than carry it.

The climb back up the hill towards the visitor center wasn’t much fun–especially since it was at the end of the hike. Carrying a camera, however, always provides a valid excuse to stop to take a picture or two (while catching one’s breath). This Wetlands hike took just under an hour and a half, factoring in the brief stops along the way.

When I got back to my car, there were a couple of things I wanted to do before I left the park. First stop was Dixon Landing. I couldn’t get exactly where I wanted to be given that there were people around, but I was close enough–and discreet… IYKYK.

I then went back to the canoe launch area (with my Altoids tin in hand), still focused on honoring special places and memories from other times Wayne and I were there over the years…

Thank you, James River State Park, for another enjoyable visit–and for a real “First Day Hike”!

Heading home and driving northwest, Tye River Road offers some stunning mountain views each time you pop over a hill…

Once on Rt. 29 North, I made a quick stop at the SPCA where I’d adopted Lilith and Xena last May.

In addition to donating several blankets for them to use in the cat cages, I (of course) told the employees and volunteers that I had adopted the best girl kitties in the whole world. (And yes, of course, I showed them several pictures.)

I made one more brief side trip before heading home:

So while I still feel that adventures are best shared, I’m realizing that in order to do the things that I enjoy doing–such as being out in nature, traveling, camping, etc.–sometimes (or perhaps most of the time…) it will mean going solo. And you know what? That’s okay.

~ Sharon

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Camping at Westmoreland State Park – August 2024

After doing a multi-state road trip by myself in July, I planned my second solo camping trip of the summer for August. While there are many beautiful campgrounds in Virginia, I opted for Westmoreland State Park because I also wanted to do some genealogy research.

Somewhere over the years I’d heard that a 5th-great grandfather on my mother’s side was born in Westmoreland County in the mid-1700s. When I learned that the county courthouse in Montross had records dating back to the mid 1600s (which is very unusual!) I hoped I would find documents to confirm this.

The weather was delightfully pleasant on the morning of August 20th, and it took me just under 3 hours to get to the campground. Wayne and I did several day trips to Westmoreland State Park, but we never had the opportunity to camp there.

I’d reserved a pull-though site in campground A near the camp host’s site. Since so much of what I do now is still way, way out of my comfort zone, I liked the idea of being close to a campground volunteer who would likely be a good resource if I had any problems.

There are 3 different campgrounds at Westmoreland: Campground “A” offers a lot of shade, but sites are fairly close together; “B” is recently renovated, with less shade but better able to accommodate large RVs; and “C” is for tent camping only.

As I was getting everything set up, the hosts from A and B stopped by to welcome me. By camping midweek–especially after many schools were back in session–there were very, very few campers and lots of empty sites. (Weekends are a different story!)

Much of the appeal of this particular state park is its location on the Potomac River. The river isn’t visible from any of the campgrounds, but it’s a short drive–or long-ish walk–to some amazing views.

On previous day trips, Wayne and I made the half-mile trek down to “Fossil Beach.” Aptly named, as many shark teeth and other fossils get washed up by the Potomac, the trail starts near the visitor’s center and winds down to the river. Once there, the scenery is just stunning; these pictures are from our day trip in 2017:

Looking west (upstream) from Fossil Beach at Westmoreland State Park
Looking east (downstream) from Fossil Beach at Westmoreland State Park

While I didn’t plan to go to Fossil Beach this time, there was also beauty at another beach and picnic area in the park:

Sometimes it’s hard to believe–with the waves and the width–that this is “just” a river! These pictures and video were taken at the main beach and picnic area.

The next morning, August 21st, I went back down to this beach, and it was another gloriously beautiful day! (Temperatures topped out in the mid 70s during my stay!)

On each of our day trips to Westmoreland, Wayne and I saw several Bald Eagles. While I did see a couple of them this morning, I wasn’t able to get good pictures because they were too far away.

Ready for the next part of this trip, I drove to the small town of Montross where the courthouse for Westmoreland County is located. My first stop was at the Westmoreland County Museum in the old courthouse building.

With the help of a young woman at the museum, we went through various books and documents–and found absolutely nothing. My next stop was the new courthouse, but once again there were no records–no wills, deeds, marriage licenses, or anything else–to indicate that my ancestor or his family ever lived in Westmoreland County. Alrighty…

I’ve also seen some research that says this family might have lived in Dorchester County, Maryland, so maybe I’ll go there on a future trip! Before that, though, I hope to go to a courthouse in a small town in central Pennsylvania to look for records for some of my paternal ancestors. (Yes, genealogy can be addictive!)

After leaving the courthouse in Montross, I decided to check out George Washington’s Birthplace–a national park–that I’d passed on my way to the campground. Despite our other trips to Westmoreland, Wayne and I had never gone there.

Interesting place, and lovely location at the confluence of Popes Creek and the Potomac River.

After a quick look in the visitor center, I decided to walk on the “Memorial Interpretive Trail” near the water.

The first wildlife I spotted was a skink–and all I managed to photograph before it disappeared was the last bit of its blue tail.

Further up the path, I startled a Great Blue Heron that squawked and flew out of a tree to my right. I was startled, too, but I did NOT squawk–ha. Sometimes I think that Great Blue Herons are my “totem” or “spirit” animals given the number of unusual and significant “coincidences” that I’ve had involving them. Long stories there…

Along the pathway were several signs that talked about the history of the area or about (in this case) the significance of one’s birthplace.

The house on the property was built in the 1930s during the Colonial Revival movement. As such, it is a very romanticized “memorial” house that is likely far, far grander than the dwelling the Washington family would have lived in during the 1700s. This picture is the back view of the house as I continued my walk along the trail.

A longer hiking trail could be accessed on the other side of this bridge. While I wasn’t interested in that (and I was dressed more for going through courthouse records than for an extended walk through the woods), I did go out on the bridge.

Almost immediately I heard some screeching, and an Osprey landed on a tree on the far side of the bridge. My camera has a pretty good zoom lens, but it was still too far away to get sharp pictures or videos.

I’m not sure if there were other farm animals on the property, but I did see this cow with twisty horns posing in front of the monument.

I went back in the visitor center to look at some of the displays again and to see what items they had for sale, and I was surprised to see a pair of Great Blue Heron earrings.

Despite my encounter with the squawking Great Blue earlier, I wasn’t going to buy them–until I saw this on the back:

Remember what I said about Great Blue Herons and “coincidences”? And remember what I said about how I want to go to a small town in PA to do genealogy research on one of my paternal ancestors? Bellefonte is that small town! This was the only pair of GBH earrings in the display, so yes, I bought them.

This made me think about an earlier “coincidence” at the courthouse in Montross when one of the other researchers in the records room mentioned something about the Nelson County courthouse. As we talked, he said he used to live in the town where I live. Curious.

And right then, a couple that I’d seen at Westmoreland’s visitor center earlier that morning walked into this visitor center! I’d first noticed them when they drove into the campground the previous evening. We both commented that it was funny to run into each other again, in a different location and several hours after seeing each other earlier in the day. The woman said they’d already checked out of the campground and were heading to Maryland to do (you guessed it) genealogy research. I asked which surnames they were researching (because you just never know…), but there was no connection.

As I walked out of the visitor center, ready to head back to the campground, there were several park rangers standing together, looking across the parking lot at a crowd that was gathering. I asked what was going on, and one said there was going to be a Bald Eagle release. What?!

I hustled across the parking lot, and sure enough there was a display set up for the Wildlife Center of Virginia. While Ed Clark, the president and founder of the Wildlife Center used to do the releases of birds of prey, his successor, Meg Gammage-Tucker, was doing the honors this day.

One of the women who was positioned along the fence with a camera told me I’d gotten there just in time. And indeed I had…

I WISH I’d set my camera to VIDEO instead of trying to get still pictures of a moving bird!

Bald Eagles don’t get their classic white head and white tail markings until they’re several years old, and this young bird apparently hatched near Colonial Beach early this spring. More about her care, the release, and more pictures from the Wildlife Center can be found here.

I was delighted to have been able to witness this event, especially since the Center (where over the years I’ve personally taken a young injured Redtail Hawk, a Barred Owl, a Black Rat Snake, and–most recently–a young Blue Jay) is just about 15 miles from my house.

Back at my campsite, I read and crocheted for a while, then fixed a very simple dinner. (I don’t guess there was any true/traditional “camping” this trip, given a working fridge, freezer, and microwave… Hey, no apologies!) While I haven’t been able to use it as much as I would have hoped this summer, I do love this little Coachmen Clipper travel trailer…

I went back to the river later that evening to have an hour or so before dusk, as this is when the beach and picnic area close. The cliffs were lit up by the soon-to-be setting sun, and there were several types of gulls circling around, looking for their dinner.

I picked up a couple of could-be fossils, wondering how many sharks would have been in these waters 50+ million years ago for their teeth to be found so frequently on the beaches of the Potomac River….

While many people go to Fossil Beach with colanders to sift through the shells, sand, and rocks, Wayne and I never did that. However, he was all about hearts, especially when he could draw them in sand….

And so that was my mission on my last evening at Westmoreland State Park… A heart with our initials–drawn in the sand–and with some of Wayne’s ashes sprinkled inside.

I intentionally drew this close to the water. The Potomac is a tidal river, and I knew the tide would be coming in before too long.

When I returned to my campsite, the camp host invited me to come sit a while by his campfire, and I enjoyed talking with him about his travels and adventures. He also hosts each year at Grayson Highlands State Park before returning to his homebase in Florida for the winter months. It was a nice way to end the evening.

I don’t know that I was necessarily ready to go home–maybe I would have enjoyed going to a couple more campgrounds in the eastern part of the state–but I was really starting to miss my cats. Before packing up the next morning, however, I drove down to the beach again. Another incredibly beautiful day was underway, with the moon and the sun both visible in the bright blue sky.

I walked eastward to where I’d drawn the heart in the sand, and–of course–it had been washed away overnight.

It’s so strange to think that fossilized pieces and parts of sea creatures from the Paleocene-Miocene Epochs–literally millions and millions and millions of years ago!–still wash ashore on the beaches of the Potomac River. And by contrast, we humans–with all of our love and passion and intelligence–can be gone in the blink of an eye, sometimes leaving behind only intangible echoes in the minds and hearts of those who knew and loved us.

Is it a matter of permanence vs impermanence? No, not really because the ancient sharks that swam in these waters aren’t still living sharks; they’ve been fundamentally and repeatedly changed and changed again over countless centuries. For better or worse, wanted or not, change/impermanence is inevitable.

I’m still finding my way through this strange landscape, often pushing myself to do things I’m not truly comfortable doing. I don’t know yet if my memories will serve as stepping stones or stumbling blocks….

For now, though, I will continue to make the effort to move through–which I’m finding is quite different from moving on–and perhaps that–for now–is enough.

~ Sharon

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Camping at Sherando Lake – June 4 – 6, 2024

Wayne and I frequently visited Sherando Lake. We loved to walk on the trails, swim, take tons of pictures–and we especially enjoyed camping there. We always had such a good time, and I am thankful for the memories….

Now, as I work through the heartbreak and raw emotions that have been part of my daily life since Wayne’s death from cancer, I’ve realized that I don’t just miss him, I also miss us. After so many years together, it’s very strange to think singularly, “What do I want to do?” “Where do I want to go?” Along with these and a thousand other (unanswered) questions, I also wondered if I would still want to go camping.

When I was maybe 8 or 9, my parents bought our first small travel trailer, and camping became just what we did. All through my childhood and until I graduated from college, we also traveled with our travel trailers. And I loved it.

Wayne and I found our first little camper in 2014 (a Scamp fixer-upper), and we enjoyed visiting local campgrounds with it. When we upgraded to a Coachmen Clipper, it allowed us to do some real traveling with a trailer, which was so much fun:

Overnight stop in Grayson, Kentucky

As I thought about solo camping, I first considered the logistics. I’d successfully taken the trailer to have it inspected in April, and that was the first time I’d ever hooked it up by myself. I’d never needed to do that before, but I found I was able to do it. And since I almost always drove when we were towing–short trips or long–I knew I was comfortable driving with the trailer. Safety is always a concern, and I’m possibly more cautious than most, but what I didn’t know (and couldn’t come at “logistically”) was if I’d actually enjoy camping alone. But I felt I needed to find out….

To ease myself into this very familiar–but now very, very different–experience, I made reservations at Sherando for a couple of nights when one of my cousins and her husband would be volunteer camp hosts there. While I didn’t plan to hang out with them the whole time, just knowing someone in the campground seemed like a good idea.

So on a hot and humid day in early June, I was once again able to get the trailer hooked up to my car. The backup camera on the Jeep is so very helpful in that regard!

The drive on I-64 was uneventful, and after about 40 minutes I arrived at the campground. It was several degrees cooler there in the mountains than at home, and that was a good thing!

The site I’d reserved was in River Bend Loop, and it was the same site that Wayne and I had in 2019.

I don’t know exactly how long it took me to get backed into my campsite, but it took a really long time. I basically know how to do this, and I’d hoped it would be easier than it was! But being there midweek when it wasn’t crowded meant that I could patiently back up, pull forward, and back up again (and again…) until I got it right.

Once I had the electricity on and everything set up, I sat outside to take in the views from my campsite.

And, of course, I reflected on memories from before in B4. Some things hadn’t changed much since 2019…

2019
2019
2019

…and yet some things had changed so very, very much….

2019 – One of my favorite pictures of the two of us

My cousin invited me to eat dinner with them at their campsite in C loop, and we sat outside at their picnic table until the rains came. When the rain got really heavy we went inside their trailer and talked until it started to slack off some. Their rain gauge recorded an inch and a half from that downpour!

Back at my campsite it was just too wet to sit outside–and way too wet to think about having a campfire–so I went inside the trailer. I noticed that my water pump kept coming on for a few seconds about every ten minutes or so, and that shouldn’t happen… I remembered something my cousin’s husband had said about an issue they’d had with their water pump due to a leak in a low point drain. I wondered if there was a problem with mine, too, so I went outside to check. Sure enough, I could see water dripping from one of the low point drains. Apparently I hadn’t gotten the cap on straight after I’d sanitized the fresh water tank earlier in the spring.

Well, it seemed like a simple fix to just remove the cap and put it back on, but as soon as I unscrewed it, water started shooting out like a fire hose, hitting the ground and splashing up on me! I was totally and utterly soaked in seconds! I was finally able to get the cap back on–and the water pump DID stop its intermittent grumbling–but this wasn’t exactly how I thought things would go on my first night out. I didn’t turn off the water pump before removing the cap; maybe that would have made a difference? I don’t know! (This picture–taken after the fact, of course–shows the low point drain that was leaking.)

But after changing into dry clothes and hanging up everything in my bathroom (I mean everything: shirt, jeans, underwear, socks!), I settled down to read for a while. I also made some notes about things I’d want to bring with me on future camping trips–so yes, I was already starting to think ahead.

By 10:00 I was getting sleepy, and to my surprise I drifted off quickly once I got in bed. Rain on the roof woke me around 1 a.m., but I was comfortable and pleasantly warm, and I slept until almost 7, which was pretty amazing.

The next morning I made a half pot of coffee and had a simple breakfast. I’d brought all sorts of food with me, but I didn’t feel like cooking anything. I walked some, and later in the afternoon my cousin and I took a couple of pictures together at the pavilion before going down to the beach.

Some hardy souls were swimming in this spring-fed mountain lake (brrr….), but we enjoyed sitting on one of the benches for a while, happy to see a bit of sunshine.

It was nice to just sit and talk, but there were memories from “before” everywhere….

2013

Another rainy evening meant another quiet evening, and I enjoyed being in my cozy trailer with a cup of hot tea reading the books I’d brought with me. Once again, I slept well.

The next morning I made a quick visit to the lake as dark clouds started moving in. It was so beautiful and so peaceful, and the calm water was as reflective as a highly-polished mirror.

The two Canada Geese that we’d seen the day before were grazing right beside the paved pathway to the beach. To my surprise they didn’t move as I walked within a couple of feet of them, but when I turned to take their picture, the one lying down hissed at me! While that made me laugh, I respected its warning and moved away. Quickly.

Later, back at my campsite, my cousin and her husband stopped by to see if I needed any help getting things packed up and ready to leave. I said I thought I’d be okay, and I thanked them for dinner and for their hospitality.

Once again I got the Jeep hitched up to the trailer. And once again I secured everything inside, and checked the chains, break away cable, lights, turn signals, anti-sway bar, etc.. It started sprinkling as I pulled out of B loop, and it was still drizzling lightly when I stopped at the dump station–which was another “first time, all by myself” experience.

The trip home was again uneventful, and I was able to get the trailer back where I wanted it in the driveway. Despite the rain, it had been a relaxing and restorative couple of days at Sherando Lake.

B4, before, B4… Memories from before–and this profound sense of loss–will always be with me. But as I slowly move into a future that I didn’t fully anticipate–rebuilding, restructuring, and reinventing myself, as necessary–maybe I’ll someday know how to answer the question of “What comes after?”

Peace and Love,

Sharon

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Celebration of Life – May 18, 2024

A Celebration of Life was held for my beloved partner, Wayne, at beautiful Alder Creek Farm in Troy, Virginia. Family and friends gathered to share music, food, and fond (and funny) memories of this very special man.

Many thanks to the Wyants, our hosts at Alder Creek; to Mark, Keith, Paul, and Jay for getting everything set up, working, and organized for an open mic musical afternoon; to Norm Carter, Photographer for taking and editing most of the pictures in the slide show above and for putting together a slide show that ran during the event; and to everyone who was able to join us–even if just in spirit.

Guestbook Entries:

This is the slide show that was running during the celebration of life:

Click HERE to see the video that was recorded during the Celebration of Life.

Peace & Love

~ Sharon

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SNAKES. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE SNAKES?

May 16, 2023

When I went outside to pay the guys who were mowing my yard, I noticed that the birds were really noisy and nervously flying from tree to tree. It was so noticeable that I commented on this, and one of the men said they were probably upset about the snake. Snake?

He said when he was mowing near the Bluebird house, he was puzzled to see an extension cord coming out of the bottom of the stovepipe baffle that’s around the post that the house is mounted on. When he got closer, the “extension cord” moved, and he realized that a snake was trying to get up to the nesting box! He intentionally bumped the post with the mower, and the snake crawled out and moved towards the fence on the west side of the yard. Great….

It’s hard to tell how many times this baffle has prevented predators (particularly snakes and raccoons) from getting the baby Bluebirds, but over the years we’ve learned that snakes can be very, very persistent and remarkably clever.

One night in 2014, a Black Rat Snake (also called an Eastern Rat Snake) was able to gain access to the nesting box by slowly and carefully s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g itself towards it while balancing on a small blueberry bush. We knew that the last Bluebird baby had fledged that afternoon (whew!), but after watching this athletic and gravity-defying feat from the back porch, we went out to the yard and gingerly evicted the snake.

We also moved the Bluebird house a little further away from the blueberry bush so there would be no repeat performance.

This was not our first encounter with a determined snake, however. In 2012, one (possibly the same one?) climbed on my roof to access a maternal colony of Big Brown bats in the louvers of my attic. (Bats? Yep, that’s whole ‘nother story.) Despite my desperate attempt to scare it off by using a hose to spray water on it, I couldn’t stop it from getting some of the sweet little baby bats….

Despite this, I don’t hate snakes–and I’m not necessarily afraid of them, as long as they don’t surprise me like this one did in 2017 in an unfinished part of my basement!

And for the record, I’ve actually gone out of my way to help snakes, such as the time in 2020 when we wrangled an injured snake on a roadway into a large container and took it to the Wildlife Center of Virginia.

But in any toss up between a snake and a furred or feathered creature, I’m going to be try to discourage the former and protect the latter. While I understand and respect the whole “circle of life” thing, I really don’t like to see it playing out in my back yard.

So after the guys finished mowing, I went out on the deck to see if I could see the snake. Sure enough, it was moving back into the yard from just beyond the west side fence. A frantic chorus of birds was starting up again, and I used the zoom on my camera to track its progress.

To my surprise, it bypassed the Bluebird house. I guess it remembered that it hadn’t been able to get past the hardware cloth at the top of the stovepipe.

But after going past the house, it turned towards an old propane grill in the yard. What was it doing? It seemed to be moving with a definite sense of purpose–and a plan….

Well. It climbed onto the propane tank of the grill and then made its way to one of the shelves.

A brave little Catbird was watching all of this–and fussing mightily!–from just a few feet away in the blueberry bush.

The mama Bluebird was keeping her eyes on the snake, too, from a nearby Tulip Poplar tree.

From its vantage point on the shelf, the snake stopped and looked directly at the Bluebird house, perhaps calculating distance and weighing its options. After a few minutes, it seemed to realize that despite the height advantage of being on the grill, it was just too far away from the nesting box to be able to reach it.

It wound itself back down, and once on the ground it moved towards one of the bushes. I’d noticed this earlier of course, but damn this was a long snake!

We knew we had big black snakes around here when we found this snake skin in one of the raised garden beds in 2011:

I don’t know where the snake went once the last tip of its tail disappeared, but soon the Bluebird parents were back to business as usual, feeding their babies.

That evening, after bringing in the bird feeders from the east side yard and switching out the card in the trail cam out there, I started reviewing the pics from the day. After zooming in and cropping, wanna guess what I saw in one of the pictures?

Hint: It’s not an extension cord.

Guess I’ll be watching where I step whenever I venture out anywhere in my yard!

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