Snakes, for me, are largely totemic creatures.
I used to see a really large Texas Rat snake, swimming in the power plant outlet creek. He was huge, having reached full, adult length, by my guess, close to five feet, maybe longer. Recognizing its yellow and brown markings, it was nothing more than a large garter snake. It was 2001, I think, and I noticed, one afternoon, that someone had freaked out and broken the back of that snake, it was floating along dead in the water. Waste of good spirit, inspired by “snake fever.” Or plain, uninformed fear.
Just about every water snake in Texas is assumed to be a Water Moccasin, which just isn’t the case. Easily distinguished by a triangular head, and in the mature specimens, a basic black coloring with a faint pattern barely visible. I had a pet one, once, we’d caught him in the middle of the lake and run lasso around his neck, dropped him in a bag. He managed to sneak out of the cage in less than an hour. Gone back to the lake, I’ll assume. He was close to four feet in length, and rather nasty. Most Cottonmouths are.
While I was closely observing the baitfish, one morning, I noticed a slithering fellow. Brown skin, not black, the scales on the skin didn’t have a “keel,” and its head was not triangular, nor, for that matter, was there any pit (it’s like an extra nostril between the nose and eye). Constrictor of some sort. Harmless. I let him be and he continued looking for his breakfast.
The next day, on the dock, I looked over, and there was a smaller version, possibly brethren, less than two feet long, and moving pretty fast. I dropped the pole and went for a closer look, and for the life of me, the only pattern to the back? Boa?
Then the following day, on the Shoal Creek bridge, I looked down, and there was the third water snake. From my elevation, I couldn’t tell anything about that one, I really didn’t want to go chasing snakes in the creek bottom. It would’ve been gone by the time I got there.
Three for three. Totems. Means something’s up, that’s for sure.
I was taking a quick dip in the creek, first swim for this year, and I was thinking about the snake medicine, or totems, or whatever, and I remembered an event last summer.
“No baby, ain’t no snakes in Barton Creek; it’s too cold.”
A little garter snake went swimming by.
Reminds me of the scene, as handed down to me by a professor, “You know, like the ‘fat broad’ in B.C.? ‘Snake! Wham! Wham!’ Just like her.”
After dark, Friday night, I was “walking the dog” – making a topwater lure behave as if it was a wounded baitfish – and the resident owl came swooping down on the river’s surface, just sure that the lure was dinner. No luck with fish, but damn near caught an owl.
Owl in a cave, during daylight, in CA (Sister can verify that one), baby owl in the backyard, couple of years ago at a party, and now this guy. He was huge. Four-foot wingspan, maybe more, hovering right in front of me, looking at the lure and me.
Three for three. Totems. Means something’s up, that’s for sure.
Dangerous Bluebonnets
Nice shot, from the phone’s camera, of Bluebonnets, wild and free.
It’s the corner of Barton Springs and Congress. Note the curb. Every time I stepped back to get a picture, another car came whizzing around the corner, nearly taking me out.
Do all artists have to suffer?
