Living Things

The gardening year is winding down, folks, and ProfessorRoush is treasuring each and every bloom that courageously adds color to the garden.  Like, for instance, the brave 'Red Cascade', daring still to emerge with its cheery red tones, bright as a beacon, daring winter to do its worst to it.

In fact, the morning frost on Sunday, 11/08/2026, was a hard one, a "freeze" actually, our first of the season.  I don't know what the low temperature was on Sunday morning, but I know that when I first looked out of my bedroom window, as I do every morning the minute my feet hit the floor, the back yard was a study in hoarfrost, the tall prairie grasses protesting under the weight of the ice captured by their supple length, bending to the moment.  This 'Red Cascade' bloom, photographed at mid-day, shows the aftermath of the frost, darkened and damaged, yet still a brave Dandy, defying the cold day.

This small Ring Neck Snake (Diadophis punctatus) was less willing to show off its defiance of the cold, made captive and sluggish by the temperatures.  He didn't move at all, let alone make any attempt to escape, induced by the cold into indifferent torpor.  I know this closeup of his best (but least colorful) side makes him appear enormous, but this little surprise awaiting me as I lifted the warming black plastic rat bait station he was hidden under was no larger than the palm of my hand.  To those who are doubting that statement, I admit that I didn't test that size comparison by taking another photo with him actually in my palm; no matter how harmless they are, snakes and I don't mingle, we agree to merely coexist in my garden. I replaced the rat station for the snake, restoring his shelter for the time being.  I hope the little guy makes it through the colder days to come.

Reading further about my little snake friend, I was chagrined to learn again that they are mildly venomous, but encouraged that their bite rarely pierces human skin.  Nonetheless, I don't think I'll test the integrity of my skin by lifting that bait trap again this season.  I'll stick with admiring the last cherry-red blooms of the roses, 'Red Cascade' above, and Canadian Rose 'Champlain' here at left, before they fade or falter under the snows to come.