St Patricks Day

Blessed by the Blarney I felt this morning as the dog and I readied for our morning walk. Before I even had my boots on, there was a conniption of crows right in my own yard. They were dive bombing a pitch pine no more than 20 ft from my window and, as predicted, if you follow this up, you will generally find some bird of prey on their verbal hit list. A huge beautiful, immature, red tailed hawk. All fluffed up with indignation, so she looked larger than ever. And I say "she" because the female red tail is larger than the male. What a great close up! Huge eyes looking down at me, looking up at her and, thanks to the wonderful binoculars my daughter gave me for Christmas, I could practically see the nictitating membrane blink across her eye. Wow!

Then, rather incredibly, only a little further down the trail a deer bounded off, leaping over the briar patches as though they weren’t there. White tail raised high and still thick, thick with winter fur. I know deer practically wander through shopping malls now, but I really don’t see them too often on this walk. I often see tracks of one or two, but no local herd hanging out, so, more blessed Irish luck it seemed. And I, an Italian!

But the most ironically, appropriate thing I saw, St Patrick wise, was my first snake of the season. Famed for driving the snakes out of Ireland, (hmm, I should Google that to see where that legend comes from-one would take it to more theologically mean, he drove evil out of Ireland) my first snake, sadly, was not driven out, but driven over. And not by a car, but by a train. What was the chance of that! The train on these tracks only runs twice a day. Without forensic proof, I can’t say that was the exact cause of death, however, I found him under the steel rail, only half out, his head and neck pretty squished. No predator would do that and then not eat his catch. Be glad you weren’t with me, because with his flattened part showing. I couldn’t really ID it, so I pulled, and it was amazingly hard to pull, until all of him was out from under the rail. He must have been there to gather warmth in the sun, and whether he had the dreaded headphones on so he didn’t hear the train coming, or he really was stuck and couldn’t move, I will never know. But it was a garter snake, our most common on the Cape, and apparently, *not *Irish. I left him belly up hoping someone might find a free meal waiting for him, but, when I returned today, he was still there. Untouched.

I must say, my Irish luck did not extend to the afternoon when I took my walking ladies in pursuit of an eagle that had been reported this winter on a nearby pond. Well, he wasn’t in the parking lot signing glossies, and although we scanned the horizon pretty well, no luck. And for this, I had an authentic Irish person along! But, that is the way it is with nature, no guarantees. The only guarantee is that if you don’t go out, you are sure to see nothing. So, may you sally forth today, in pursuit of an unexpected delight, then pass it on to the rest of us. Remember the motto "Each one, teach one."