A Narrow Fellow

One our way down the driveway (we were just starting our walk, you see) I met a snake. He was as bold as a lion for the kind of snake he was, namely a black racer such as has usually disappeared into the palm fronds as soon as they've caught your notice. This creature had great valor, and remained bravely curious, head held high, and body ribboning the grass behind him. My bright eyes met his bright eyes. I took some of his boldness for myself and didn't start or shy as usual but instead took a investigative step forward. He held a moment and then was gone in a blink, leaving just air where his stare had been and the very tip of a tail where all of him used to be. I saw him later that day, once in the garden nearby our first meeting place, and then again and again out of the corner of my eye. No, I only saw him the one more time, come to think of it. The other times it was a stick or a rope, as I realized after leaping sideways in surprise. It is hard to be brave when it might be a twig or it might be a snake.