Date: Mon, 11 Apr 2005 15:13:23 -0500
From: Will Gorham <quesera at gmail.com>
To: jlist <johnny at charm.net>
Subject: Nature Bites

For the last few Sundays I've been helping my darling wife set up
field sites for her PhD research into seed banks and river
restoration. What this entails is wearing big rubber boots and a
bright orange vest and walking through the muck at the edges of rives,
floodplains and swamps, sticking little flags in the muck and taking
soil samples. I mostly carry the bag and follow very closely in my
wife's footsteps in order to avoid being killed by any of the various
poisonous things that live in these regions.

Yesterday we took a walk through the woods at Holly Springs National
Forest in order to find the stream that lets into Puskus lake. We
walked for about two miles on a pretty nice path in the woods. I only
had to flail my arms wildly at my face once when I walked through a
spiderweb. But eventually we reached the point where the path loops
back but our purpose, evidently, still required further motion in a
forward direction, so we tramped through the woods, under the brush,
and finally, into the muck.

With no drama or incident we found a suitably site, planted flags,
spotted a frog and a creepy looking moth, took soil samples and began
our trek back through the brush towards the path. About halfway in,
Siobhan spotted some trash (a milk jug and, inexplicably, a light
bulb) off to the right and went over to pick it up. I followed her.
After picking up the trash, we were sort of in a tight little brambly
spot and now had to work our way back toward the pseudo path we had
left in order to get the trash. I watched Siobhan pass by a
bowlingball sized hole in the muck and thought "uh oh." But she passed
it without incident and I began to creep by myself. Just as I was
passing the hole, Siobhan lurched back at me and, a split second
later, screamed. I looked to where she was pointing and saw this:

http://www.stewart.army.mil/dpw/wildlife/cottonmouth%20copy.jpg

It was extremely unpleasant.

I'd say more, but the Tornado sirens are going off and I need to go to
the basement of my building now.

Ah, springtime. 

Will Gorham A'98