The Pony and I saw another snakey friend this afternoon on the gravel road. He wasted no time in slithering across dusty rocks and up into the woods. He was not big. Perhaps two feet long. He looked like a black snake, but I thought I detected a hint of blue along his underbelly. Which would make him a blue racer, according to Farmer H's older boys, when they used to go looking for such critters.
However...the blue racer is apparently an Eastern Yellow-Bellied Racer, according to the Missouri Conservation Department. Here's a link from their website. And a picture from my BFF, Google.
I told The Pony that of course that snake was moving fast. People try to kill him and his kind every day. Just to be mean. Just to prove that a car is mightier than a snake. Because they have snake phobia. Because they think the snake is going to crawl up in the truck and bite them. I don't know why. But many a time I've seen vehicles stop, pop into reverse, and back up over a snake. Then pull forward, slam on the brakes, try to skid that snake into road butter. Takes all kinds, I guess.
I stopped to let that little racer pass. Not because I am a tree-hugging snake lover. Or so altruistic that I make Mother Teresa look like a selfish bully. But because I thought he was a black snake. And they eat rats.
Some vermin are more equal than others.