A Narrow Fellow in the Grass

We went to the park at sunset a few evenings ago for our walk.  As I walked toward a tree I saw a smooth stick lying in the grass.  I bent over it to see if it was natural.  If wrinkled, shot away and started up the tree.

 It was so fast, I thought the snake, a black racer, must be after bird’s eggs for supper.  I was wrong.  He found the crotch of two branches, well above our heads, and gracefully arranged himself into three beautiful, perfectly balanced loops, with smaller loops on top of them.  Each loop hung between a branch and the tree.  His head rested on the loop nearest us.  Our interest brought an audience of three more people.

We took our walk around the pond and returned to the tree.  The racer was still there and still still.

We have looked in that tree on our two later visits to the park, but the black racer has found another place.