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| View toward Abiquiu, New Mexico. |
A young rattlesnake curled on a flat warm stone by the laundry room door yesterday. So easy to miss, I almost walked right by him as I carried a basket of rolled clean socks and sleeve-tucked tee shirts. He was next to invisible, pristine and silent, his distinctive pattern dovetailed into pinon-filtered sunlight.
It was pure animal instinct to turn my gaze left and spot him. One sharpened second out of my usual preoccupied saunter. I backed away and sprinted (with a moment of rare agility) into the casita to fetch Steve.
I think you should see this! I blurted, interrupting his work at the laptop. My husband didn't hesitate. He's found the Save key before I can deposit my dryer warmed cargo on the bed. He knows the desert gives up unexpected gifts. He doesn't want to miss a trick.
We stared in tandem at the tiny threat for three minutes until the youngster uncurled and nosed himself back into the rock embankment.
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