Running from Rattlers

Among the thin, rutted out trails in this last of still mostly wild spaces.

Wisps of dust drawing up at the moment boots meet the ground, then leave it.

Imprints on the earth are meant to be redoubled, leaving trails in their wake.

A search for wildflowers brings me here, to this destination and none other.

Dreams of Collared Lupine, Poppies, Chia!

All the momentary marvels of an abundant springtime in a fortunate year.

This one not the same as the last, bearing a showing vastly modest.

Blooms tucked away in the far recesses to escape the searing rays.

Attracting what I will.

Attracting what I may.

Attracting what I desire.

Attracting what desires me.

Attracting what my energy draws inexplicably near.

Yet another rattler indeed!

This one much the same as the last.

Resting precariously to the unwary.

Immediate proximity to the trail marks a need for vigilance.

Coincidence is a thought done away with after repeated encounters.

After the initial shock,

I fall into a relaxed repose in familiar context.

After mustering a bold step further,

I freeze as hairs stand at attention and a shiver races through me.

The snake uncoils vigorously.

It will defend its evening perch at a dear cost to any who dares to disturb.

A notion I've come to respect.

For not to do so warrants inevitable and dire consequence.

This fellow trail blazer observes my presence warily.

Springing into action before I may encroach further.

Uncoiled at the snap of a finger.

Like the crack of a whip.

At attention and poised to strike with abandon.

The element of supreme danger at its finest immediacy.

I glance over to the Buckwheat on the right.

The rusted blooms offer a safe haven.

In hardly a flash I bolted for the bushes,

Careening briefly down the nearest embankment,

With dinner tucked neatly under an arm,

I came to rest at the face of a boulder.

One of several making up a pile.

A respite from the dangers of the trail,

Both perceived and realized.

I clamber to a flat area.

Fashioning it into a resting place suited for this time.

Stopping and listening intently to the sounds of the growing night.

A sly grin forces its way across my countenance.

The exhilaration never ceases.

Nor does the gratitude for survival.

Thank you kindly my newest friend of the moment.