sticks

stones

It always takes a second glance. When my eyes first move over them I see a twig, a smooth stone, another piece of forest litter. Then my brain clicks the stick is not rigid enough it's fluid, it curves too perfectly against the earth. The rock is too smooth, too round.

Much to their dismay I see through their camouflage, wait for them to give up, come out, look around. So I can click away with my camera, pick them up, study the pattern on their backs: shells and scales. I interrupt their lives for a few quick minutes and then let them go on their merry way.

I've decided that I would like to be able to identify all the Texas snakes. This one is a brown snake (I think I could have come up with a cooler name.)

Comment