David Attenborough, eat your heart out
14/7/03 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
minervasoloInteresting things happened in our pond today, so I figured I'd use it as a bit of writing practice. It's a slightly verbose account of what happened, but I think Anria may what to consider the snakes now allied with the toads (if you don't get the reference, it's coz you're not Anria). When I began it had a happy ending, but tradegy struck as I wrote... That's the sort of style the whole story is written in, since I'm writing the introduction after writing the story. Perhaps 'a lot verbose' would be more acurate, if less grammatically correct.
It's been an unusually sunny day, as anyone who lives around here will tell you. It was actually hot enough to tempt even me outside to sunbathe, and the creator of the bikini should be worshipped, for in this heat that is the most many eople could bear to wear. The heat was like a blanket, the air still and the sky clear, the world drowsy and peceful. I wasn't the only one taking advantage of the weather: in our pond both the resident grass snake and frog were absorbing the heat, lying on top of the saggy green netting that is riddled with rips and tears, watching the fish with lazy disinterest.
I'd gone in to get a much needed drink when I heard a strange squeaking sound. I wandered back out to see some leaves rustling, tossed around by some struggling creature. My immediate assumption was that the cats had caught a bird and left it to die, but as I drew closer I was stunned to see that these high-pitched squeals were actually coming from a frog, the very frog I had left sunbathing on the netting in the pond. The snake, our other regular, had caught it by the foot.
Most people don't think of frogs as particularly noisy animals. Sure, they croak, but that's generally during the mating season, and for the most part they are silent animals. This one, however, sounded like a dog's chew toy, it's screams squeaky and pitiful. After watching for a few moments, I decided to tell my mother so she could come and see, and together we could make a decision on whether to interfere or let nature run it's course. When we returned the cat too had come over for a look, and both snake and frog had frozen. We decided to free the frog before the cat killed both, and we put it back in the pond.
Naturally, I assumed that was that, but later I heard the same mounful squeaks. This time the battle was taking place on top of the pond netting. When I arrived, the snake only had the frog's foot in it's mouth, and determined to save the frog's life once more, I prodded the snake with a dry stick. But to my surprise the snake hung grimly on. The frog used its three free feet to gain purchase on the netting and drag the snake half way across the pond, but the snake fought back, literally tieing its tail in a knot around the netting, and hauling grimly back.
Having now decided to let nature takes it's course this time, I settled down to watch. The snake must have been particularly hungry, to continue fighting the frog while I sat there, and especially so to endure an albiet brief poking. The battle raged on, neither gaining much ground. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, the snake inched it's way up the frog's leg, until it came to the join.
Now here was a conundrum for teh serpent. I was of the opinion that the snake would never manage to swallow the frog whole, and as long as the frog still had one back leg free it was fighting back, dragging the snake around the pond. The snake had its own ideas. Moving round, loosening its grip on the back leg, it managed to sink its teeth into the frog's rear, sideways on. For the frog, this was merely as awkward as the snake's previous position, and it continued its lurching way across the pond, until the snake made its next moved. With an almighty stretch, the snake snared the frog's other ankle.
It took several minutes for the snake the consolidate its new hold, during which time it lost its grip on most of the original leg. After much thrashing on both creature's behalves, the snake found it's mouth clamped around the frog's feet. Oddly enough, even at this point in the precedings, there was no blood. The frog's leg looked a littel chewed, but otherwise fine. Later, a thin trickle would appear on the frog's thigh, but other than that it was a gore-free affair. I realised later that the frog had also fallen silent, having never made a sound since my arrival on the scene. It's unlikely that it squeaked only to call me to its aid, especially when I was of no use to it, but its silence was unnerving.
The snake returned to its previous tactic, wrapping its tail around the netting and writhing backwards, dragging the frog after it. As the frog began to wear himself out resisting this pull, the snake moved forewards a minute distance, taking more of the frog's legs into its mouth. Slowly, slowly, the snake edged backwards, until most of its body was underwater, and only its head, now wrapped around almost half the frog, was above the netting.
And here, the snake met a snag. The frog simply would not fit through the holes in the netting. Normally, when the frog wanted to swim in the pond, it would locate one of the many snags in the netting, places where cats had torn it to get at the fish, but the snake usually had no trouble fitting through hte smaller gaps of the intact webbing. As the snake squirmed and tugged it too began to tire, and the frog, with renewed vigour, used its puny forelegs to drag both itself and the snake forewards again. I watched with amazement as it slipped and scrampled on a lily pad, hauling it's fearsome predator out of the water and back up onto the netting. Having thought it was all up for the frog, I found myself chanting "Go, froggy" over and over again, I was so amazed at its courage.
The snake hung on for dear life, of course, and in many ways it was just as much a matter of life or death for the grass snake as it was for the frog. This frog would keep it satiated for the better part of a week, and to be willing to continue the hunt with an audience, well, that was highly unusual.
Three times the snake employed the same tactics, winding its lithe body around the loops in the netting and attempting to drag the frog underwater. Once underwater, it could drown the frog and feast at leisure, rather than continue this futile attempt to swallow it whole. And it was futile, for on hte third attempt, just as it looked as though the snake would squeeze the frog through the gap in the net, it pulled to hard and the frog wrenched it's legs forewards. The snake had tried to pull the frog through, and the frog had stuck while the snake kept going backwards.
Again, the fight raged on, the snake now only hanging on to the frog's ankles, and with an almighty tug, the frog's feet popped free. The snake whipped away under the rocks, and the frog sat, triumphant, on the netting. Its legs were unbroken, and only the smallest trickle of blood gave hint of what had just happened.
Twice now the frog had beaten its nemesis, and it would go on to do it again, but with grevious damage to itself. For, as I began this account, the snake caught the frog again, and only the interception of my sister saved our green protagonist. The shock from the second attack had left it sitting immobile in the cenre of the pond, and the snake had taken advantage of this. Now the frog lies, dying, on the netting, its legs stretched behind it and its body elongated by the snake's throaty ministrations. Later the snake will come to finish it off. Thus ends the tale of the frog and the snake, and what I did all day.
In other news, I'm going out to dinner with Sohpie in about an hour, and need to go and finish getting ready. It's so hot today!
It's been an unusually sunny day, as anyone who lives around here will tell you. It was actually hot enough to tempt even me outside to sunbathe, and the creator of the bikini should be worshipped, for in this heat that is the most many eople could bear to wear. The heat was like a blanket, the air still and the sky clear, the world drowsy and peceful. I wasn't the only one taking advantage of the weather: in our pond both the resident grass snake and frog were absorbing the heat, lying on top of the saggy green netting that is riddled with rips and tears, watching the fish with lazy disinterest.
I'd gone in to get a much needed drink when I heard a strange squeaking sound. I wandered back out to see some leaves rustling, tossed around by some struggling creature. My immediate assumption was that the cats had caught a bird and left it to die, but as I drew closer I was stunned to see that these high-pitched squeals were actually coming from a frog, the very frog I had left sunbathing on the netting in the pond. The snake, our other regular, had caught it by the foot.
Most people don't think of frogs as particularly noisy animals. Sure, they croak, but that's generally during the mating season, and for the most part they are silent animals. This one, however, sounded like a dog's chew toy, it's screams squeaky and pitiful. After watching for a few moments, I decided to tell my mother so she could come and see, and together we could make a decision on whether to interfere or let nature run it's course. When we returned the cat too had come over for a look, and both snake and frog had frozen. We decided to free the frog before the cat killed both, and we put it back in the pond.
Naturally, I assumed that was that, but later I heard the same mounful squeaks. This time the battle was taking place on top of the pond netting. When I arrived, the snake only had the frog's foot in it's mouth, and determined to save the frog's life once more, I prodded the snake with a dry stick. But to my surprise the snake hung grimly on. The frog used its three free feet to gain purchase on the netting and drag the snake half way across the pond, but the snake fought back, literally tieing its tail in a knot around the netting, and hauling grimly back.
Having now decided to let nature takes it's course this time, I settled down to watch. The snake must have been particularly hungry, to continue fighting the frog while I sat there, and especially so to endure an albiet brief poking. The battle raged on, neither gaining much ground. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, the snake inched it's way up the frog's leg, until it came to the join.
Now here was a conundrum for teh serpent. I was of the opinion that the snake would never manage to swallow the frog whole, and as long as the frog still had one back leg free it was fighting back, dragging the snake around the pond. The snake had its own ideas. Moving round, loosening its grip on the back leg, it managed to sink its teeth into the frog's rear, sideways on. For the frog, this was merely as awkward as the snake's previous position, and it continued its lurching way across the pond, until the snake made its next moved. With an almighty stretch, the snake snared the frog's other ankle.
It took several minutes for the snake the consolidate its new hold, during which time it lost its grip on most of the original leg. After much thrashing on both creature's behalves, the snake found it's mouth clamped around the frog's feet. Oddly enough, even at this point in the precedings, there was no blood. The frog's leg looked a littel chewed, but otherwise fine. Later, a thin trickle would appear on the frog's thigh, but other than that it was a gore-free affair. I realised later that the frog had also fallen silent, having never made a sound since my arrival on the scene. It's unlikely that it squeaked only to call me to its aid, especially when I was of no use to it, but its silence was unnerving.
The snake returned to its previous tactic, wrapping its tail around the netting and writhing backwards, dragging the frog after it. As the frog began to wear himself out resisting this pull, the snake moved forewards a minute distance, taking more of the frog's legs into its mouth. Slowly, slowly, the snake edged backwards, until most of its body was underwater, and only its head, now wrapped around almost half the frog, was above the netting.
And here, the snake met a snag. The frog simply would not fit through the holes in the netting. Normally, when the frog wanted to swim in the pond, it would locate one of the many snags in the netting, places where cats had torn it to get at the fish, but the snake usually had no trouble fitting through hte smaller gaps of the intact webbing. As the snake squirmed and tugged it too began to tire, and the frog, with renewed vigour, used its puny forelegs to drag both itself and the snake forewards again. I watched with amazement as it slipped and scrampled on a lily pad, hauling it's fearsome predator out of the water and back up onto the netting. Having thought it was all up for the frog, I found myself chanting "Go, froggy" over and over again, I was so amazed at its courage.
The snake hung on for dear life, of course, and in many ways it was just as much a matter of life or death for the grass snake as it was for the frog. This frog would keep it satiated for the better part of a week, and to be willing to continue the hunt with an audience, well, that was highly unusual.
Three times the snake employed the same tactics, winding its lithe body around the loops in the netting and attempting to drag the frog underwater. Once underwater, it could drown the frog and feast at leisure, rather than continue this futile attempt to swallow it whole. And it was futile, for on hte third attempt, just as it looked as though the snake would squeeze the frog through the gap in the net, it pulled to hard and the frog wrenched it's legs forewards. The snake had tried to pull the frog through, and the frog had stuck while the snake kept going backwards.
Again, the fight raged on, the snake now only hanging on to the frog's ankles, and with an almighty tug, the frog's feet popped free. The snake whipped away under the rocks, and the frog sat, triumphant, on the netting. Its legs were unbroken, and only the smallest trickle of blood gave hint of what had just happened.
Twice now the frog had beaten its nemesis, and it would go on to do it again, but with grevious damage to itself. For, as I began this account, the snake caught the frog again, and only the interception of my sister saved our green protagonist. The shock from the second attack had left it sitting immobile in the cenre of the pond, and the snake had taken advantage of this. Now the frog lies, dying, on the netting, its legs stretched behind it and its body elongated by the snake's throaty ministrations. Later the snake will come to finish it off. Thus ends the tale of the frog and the snake, and what I did all day.
In other news, I'm going out to dinner with Sohpie in about an hour, and need to go and finish getting ready. It's so hot today!
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Date: 15/7/03 04:25 am (UTC)PS: Snakes may go on the hit list, but I do not yet know if it was one snake acting alone or the collective will of the majority of snakes which caused this unfortunate incident. We will have to wait and see. . . .