Riverdance

Yesterday, on the way to the mailbox, at end of the driveway, there was a small garter snake. He wasn't moving and didn't move as I passed. I crossed the street to retrieve the mail and when I crossed back the snake was still in the same position. I don't know if he drowned in the pouring rain. There didn't seem to be a mark on him. I nudged him with my toe and he remained still. Dead. He was rather pretty in black and golden brown. I related this story to a friend telling her I thought the snake would make a handsome hatband for a cowboy hat.

She replied with much icking and said that snakes creeped her out, or words to that effect. I told her I was not fond of snakes, though this one was only a small garter snake. Had he moved when I nudged him, I would have been Riverdancing at the end of the driveway.

She loved the image and wanted a blog. So, Sunflower, this spud's for you. The step dancing potato and I are roughly the same shape.