cottonmouth

A stout water mocassin crossed my path in woods near Perdido Bay, then stopped under an azalea shrub to stare. I got the message. I am the intruder, not her.

2 thoughts on “cottonmouth

  1. She saw it staring from under the azalea shrub. Frightened, she ran absent-mindedly into the waters of the nearby bay. When she was waist deep, she stopped and wiped away the drops of water that had splashed into her eyes. She turned toward the shore. The eyes of the approaching water mocassin were on her again, glaring this time as it slithered toward her. She knew this would be her final intrusion.

    (Sorry, Beth. I didn’t intend for this to turn so creepy).

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