I nearly stepped on a five-foot long black rat snake. It lay lengthwise sunning itself among yellow, red and brown fall leaves on the the bank of Rocky Creek.

“Oops I didn't see you!” I mumbled. Bending over I studied the shiny slightly ridged scales on its motionless back. I hear rat snakes are superb climbers. The upwardly curved scales along their sides give them more climbing traction. A big advantage in their hunt for bird eggs, rats and other rodents.

I admired the snake from my swing under a four-sided pole canopy overlooking the creek's tumbling water.

A chattering squirrel caught my attention as it scurried up a nearby tree. When I turned my head towards the snake again I froze. It slithered rapidly towards me with its black forked tongue flickering.

I quickly raised and folded my legs under me as the snake slid under the swing beneath me. Breathing a sigh of relief I watched it circle the edge of the carpet under the canopy poles.

Usually, when I walk up to a snake it stays still before sliding off in the opposite direction when the coast is clear. This snake seemed to be more cocky.

The snake suddenly reversed its direction and headed straight towards me on the swing. I jumped up and dashed out from under the canopy. The snake climbed the swing frame, crossed the cushions I was sitting on and slithered back down to the ground.

On a recent television program a medium or person who talks to the dead asked a wife who had lost her husband and son if she had seen butterflies. The wife looked stunned and began to cry. She said two butterflies had been following her around her garden for days. The medium said the butterflies are her husband and son's way of letting her know they are still with her. I was deeply moved my the program and wondered if this snake might be my recently deceased mother's playful way of making contact. “Mom, is that you?” I wondered.

The snake ignored me and began to slowly and artfully climb up a small tree next to the canopy.

When the snake finally lay still its long body blended with the mottled brown tarp on top of the canopy.

Satisfied the excitement was over I collapsed back on the swing seat. My snake companion's presence on the roof felt strangely comforting.

A loud shuffling sound came from above. My head snapped up. To my dismay the snake suddenly dropped to the ground with a thud beside me.

I jumped to my feet, dashed to the other side of the canopy and stood transfixed. The snake once again slithered towards me. Its forked tongue sliding in and out. Moving away I realized it was not heading to me but to the small tree beside me. The snake slowly circled and looped itself up the tree until it was once again on top to the canopy.

“Okay, hopefully it's over now,” I told myself settling back on the swing.

Whoosh! Thump! The snake had fallen again. Only this time in front of me. Once again I jumped off the swing and dashed out. The snakes forked tongue flickered as it circled the carpet and climbed back up the tree.

Sitting down I watched the canopy ceiling and listened intently. Leaves rattled from the front of the canopy. Just as I moved to investigate there was a soft swooshing, plop sound behind me. I whirled around. To my dismay a little brown house mouse with five pink hairless babies attached to her stomach and back zipped across the leaves and disappeared down a hole between two large rocks. The mouse and her babies reemerged further up the bank before she disappeared in the leaves. A tiny squeaking sound came from the rock area.

Another loud whoosh came from above me. I looked up and gulped. The snake was falling towards my feet. I jumped back just in time. The snakes tongue flickered as it turned its head and shot towards the hole in the rock where the mouse had disappeared.

My heart missed a beat. Mama mouse, now alone, was heading to the rocks towards the tiny peeping sound.

Like lightening the snake disappeared in the hole and the peeping stopped.

Mama mouse turned back. I let out a sigh of relief.

At least Mama mouse and some of her babies escaped. I was deeply moved by Mama mouse's willingness to risk her life for her baby.

To my surprise I was also glad the snake got a meal after all its hard work.