There’s a new hole in the ground that goes under the edge of one of our flower beds near the bird feeder. Our yard is pretty wild and, probably according to the neighbors, unkempt. Our dog has dug up a few spots, and the squirrels routinely create small excavations in the lawn where they either hide or retrieve some special treat or treasure. There are also a couple of places beneath the garden shed at the back where the bunnies who live beneath it have scraped out tunnels for access.

This hole, however, is something new. It’s a couple of inches wide and seems to go relatively deep. I have theorized a pack rat or maybe some other rodent is present — and tried not to envision it being the home of a snake. Being under a railroad tie and adjacent to the rock wall of the sunken flower bed, I suspect it leads to a greater network of burrows somewhere deeper. If a rodent, the spilled bird seed nearby provides a ready meal, and if a snake, the spilled seed attracts birds to the ground, an equally tantalizing but different sort of treat.

Our house is in a very old neighborhood, only a block away from a large creek where it emerges from the Front Range mountains. There are a large number of old trees and everyone seems interested in keeping the local tree cover. Older lilacs and chokecherries grow on the fence lines under the various trees. Consequently, we have tons of squirrels and birds. Being situated on the flyway along the Front Range, we can get various birds the migrate through at different times, as well as local birds and those that move up and down the elevation over different seasons. There are resident raccoons somewhere by the creek that raid our compost pile, and on occasion we see elk or deer passing through. The local paper has reported bear sightings in the spring, but I’m not aware of any near us this year.

In the past, we’ve seen a few snakes — those gray or brown insect-eating types that would do no more that startle me if I stepped too close. Once our older cat showed up with a foot-long garter snake in her mouth and wanted to present it to us inside as it wriggled and writhed in her mouth. Needless to say, I had to man up and get it away from her and put it somewhere safer from the cat.

Now, growing up in Texas and spending lots of time out hunting and fishing or just being out in the wild, we saw lots of snakes. Texas has water moccasins, rattlesnakes, copperheads and coral snakes, as well as bevies of non-poisonous ones, like the Hog-nosed or Bull snakes, that can be territorial or aggressive, if threatened. My innate fear of snakes may have been exacerbated by my older brother catching one and sticking it in my face on occasion (purely as a sign of brotherly love, I am certain!) I was particularly fearful when swimming in farm ponds, often cloudy with duckweed or some other moss, after my brother explained that snakes could actually bite you under water – that’s how they catch fish!

There is also something heart-stopping about unexpectedly stepping on or near a snake that is literally terrifying. When hunting, I’ve walked past a bush only to hear a rattle and not known whether to freeze or run. (Not knowing where the sound came from, my bulky shotgun was only an impediment. I have compromised by leaping away in a manner that would make a ballet dancer proud and was careful not to shoot anybody). 

In short, we have a lot of wildlife encroaching on our neighborhood, and generally enjoy their experience. I live and let live for the most part, but I really hope that new hole was not made by snakes!