Reflection and regret.
#031
Last Saturday night, the temperature dropped and the chill in the air called for a fire in the front yard fire pit. I walked over to the side yard to gather kindling and, after I had nearly an armful, by the light of my headlamp, I noticed movement off to my right. It was a snake. I stepped toward it and in the span of what felt like seconds, I identified it as a copperhead, dropped all the kindling cradled in my arms save for a branch roughly the size of my forearm, and hit the snake squarely on its head, killing it.
It all happened so fast. My night shifted from winding down by the fire to a full range of emotions from taking the life of something so quickly and purely out of fear. It really got away with me. I tend not to kill things I don’t intend to eat. I don’t kill snakes, but rather leave them be. I strive for balance in the ecosystem of our home (and in the larger world) and consider myself a good steward of the environment. But, as I’m writing this, I’m still processing how quickly instinct took over - fear-based instinct - and motivated me to kill that copperhead.
Maybe you’re reading this and don’t see what the big deal is. Maybe you’re reading this and you can’t believe I killed the snake. Believe me, I’ve run through all the emotions. In the weeks prior, I’d been dreaming about copperheads. I sat down at our dining room table that night and recounted in my notebook the series of events. I apologized to the snake. I did not feel good about it. Later that night, the internet told me that the average copperhead lives 18 years. This was the first copperhead I’d seen on our property in the five years we’ve lived here. Chances are, it was here before me.
I’ve moved away from the right or wrong of it and tried to just be honest with myself about the range of emotions I’ve experienced since then. Sure, our dogs could’ve been bitten or worse yet, one of us. But, that didn’t happen and I’m left thinking about the experience and trying to understand my instincts and my place on this ridge. I have a lot to learn.
The week went on to unfold in ways our family didn’t expect. Without going into much detail, we’ve had a rough week. We traveled several times between our home in West Virginia to Columbus, Ohio to navigate the chaos before us. Fortunately, we were able to take some time in between trips to get out of the car and explore a bit. I’d never been to Chillicothe, so we spent a couple of hours wandering around and being curious.
We visited Wheatberry Books, a wonderful independent bookstore on West Second Street. We also checked out Parkside Ice Creamery (for a flight of ice cream) and The History Store (for a book about the Battle of Point Pleasant) on North Paint Street. It was just the stop we needed in a great town. (It’s also home to photographer Matt Day.)
On the way out of town, I noticed the juxtaposition of the Greenlawn Cemetery and the Cargill grain elevators and stopped to make a few pictures. Chillicothe left an impression on us and I know we’ll back for a longer visit.
And last, but certainly not least, the winner of a copy of Diane Gilliam’s Kettle Bottom is Mountaincoco. Thanks to everyone who read last week’s newsletter and commented for a chance to win. Your kind words and support mean a great deal to me.
- Roger
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Chillicothe and copperheads. That's a lot for one week even without abig kerfuffle. Mike and I used to be pretty familiar with Chillicothe and had occasion to spend couple of nights there. It's a much nicer town than it used to be. As for the snake, I know how you feel but sometimes we do bad things out of instinct. At least you have enough grace to feel bad about it.
Roger, I live in Columbus and am available to be of assistance, or merely company to keep, should you need it during visits.