Autumn in Eden

With the change of each season, I go about professing this is my favorite.  The first snows of winter are favorites, the soft chartreuse leaves of spring are favorites, the balmy summer days, and the deep reds, oranges and amber leaves of autumn. Each beautiful day might be the last, before the temperatures plummet and the ground freezes and the snow flies.  So when a gorgeous autumn days presents itself I head to a favorite park to hike the trails and paths through an old oak savannah.  We're so fortunate to have such fabulous parks in our home area, and they are available year round with trails in the winter to hike and snowshoe and cross country ski upon.

Today was sunny and the air temps had risen from our frost on the pumpkin morning to near 60, so I joined the crowds of families and trail runners out enjoying the woods.  The leaves crunched underfoot, and the geese honked as they v'ed overhead on their migration.  No horses met me on the paths although there was ample evidence of their passing with piles of their apples dotting the trail.

It was just the most perfect day until, as the biblical creation myth of Eden presented the serpent in the garden, one such creature slithered across my path.  When you're hiking at a good pace it takes a step or two to halt, and for the brain to recognize it's survival signal: SNAKE!!!

Because it's an involuntary response, of course I screamed. And waved my hiking poles and poked the ground to encourage it to move away from me, immediately! And then I could feel this sensation of a thing wrapped around my upper back and neck and my brain fired off another warning.  I flung my head back and forth, stooping and straightening rapidly while shrieking, trying to keep both feet off the ground to prevent the snake on the trail from joining the one I was convinced had dropped off a tree onto my neck.  Eventually whiplash stopped my trail performance, and I realized Sir Hissss had slithered off, and the cord from my hoodie was wrapped around my neck trying to strangle me, not another serpent.

The family behind me had stopped a safe distance away,  the mother had her hands covering the toddler's eyes while their young sons gaped at me with equal parts awe and horror.  Without making eye contact the parents herded their young away down a different path, and I continued along my path, chastened and oddly invigorated.  At least my heart rate met it's workout goal today.

Our family has more than met it's quota of snakes this year.  I look forward to their hibernation.