Good: the nylon mesh fencing keeps most of the critters out of my flower beds.
Bad:
#1- I keep tripping on it myself, but have only done one acrobatic fall down the rock garden as a result (one bruise).
#2- It doesn't keep all the animals out. Something grazed its way through the front flower bed two days ago eating half the painted fern and several hostas, including the 'Mouse Ears' that was going to bloom. I suspect a woodchuck found my little opening that allows me access. There is a chipmunk that goes in and out all the time, but it hasn't eaten stuff yet.
#3- Sometimes it catches wildlife that I only wish to deter, not harm. Last week, a 13-lined ground squirrel was caught in it. It was still alive, and I freed it by wrapping it in a towel so I wouldn't get bitten. It "thanked" me by running right back under the fence into the rock garden.
#3 part two- Today, another blue racer (see link below from last year) tried to get through the fence around the front bed. This one was much more unhappy than last year's. It was smaller and feisty. I did get bitten for my troubles before I managed to catch hold of it and snip the nylon.
Doesn't it just look annoyed? Of course this is anthropomorphizing.
It roughed itself up quite a bit, but no blood, so I think it will be OK.
Philosophy: I don't talk about my faith much on this blog, but this opportunity is too good to pass up.
Yes, the snake bit me before I got hold of it (no big deal- no venom, I cleaned it up afterwards). Snakes have good eyesight, and may even see some colors. They smell with their tongues. You have to wonder what I smelled like to it. It probably had never encountered a human that close before.
To me, it smelled like a stressed snake. We used to have pet snakes, and they have a distinctive odor when they are frightened or overheated (this one was probably both).
It certainly saw me as large and threatening as I repeatedly tried to grab it. It couldn't possibly understand that I wanted to help it. Yes, I know there have been stories of sea mammals and other woodland creatures seeking out help from a human, but I doubt that a reptile that isn't a pet could possibly conceive of this scenario.
It knew it was in trouble. It had tried to get through the netting and had, of course, only gotten more tangled. But it did not see me as the solution to the problem. It had only limited understanding of the kind of being I was (warm blooded, but too large to eat- beyond that, who knows?)
From its perspective, this large thing grabbed its neck and prevented it from doing what it wanted to, pressed something cold (but smooth) into the places where it was hurting (which did then stop hurting), lifted it off the safe ground, TALKED to it- what on earth did those noises mean?, and (gently) threw it far away from where it had been trying to go. None of these things could have been processed by a snake as part of its daily survival goals.
Seems like this is a lot like how we sometimes react to God's intervention in our lives. We can't perceive God in any but the foggiest of ways. We don't like it when our attention is diverted from what we think the problem is. We can't understand much of anything God might try to actually say to us. We are livid when our personal plans and goals are altered unexpectedly.
Maybe, just maybe, there is a Being on a level much higher than our own who wants to extricate us from entanglements we can't understand, but we only get frightened and angry when we are "saved" from a danger we weren't fully aware of and sent on a different path.
OK, enough of that. But perhaps you see my point. I did a lot of computer work and editing with some outside tasks. But then it got pretty hot, so I came back to the computer.
