patterned snake slid off the rocks edging the pond into the clear water. “Whoa! That looked like a copperhead!”
“No, that's a northern water snake. They do look a lot like copperheads—that is, till you see the real thing. The water snakes don't have that triangular viper head, but they get killed for copperheads just the same.”
“It doesn't bother you to have snakes so close?” Hawkins watched intently as the snake emerged from the pool, followed by a second smaller one. The two reptiles coiled themselves elegantly on a flat rock in the sun. “A lot of people can't stand to be around snakes of any kind. Like that church service you told me about with the serpent boxes.” He grinned and shook his head. “I know quite a few folks who wouldn't have set foot in that church if there was even a chance of snakes being there, boxes or not.”
“They don't bother me as long as I know what they are. I like to watch them, and they keep the goldfish population under control. And they always go and hide when I have to reach into the pond to get at the filter to clean it.”
Hawkins continued to stare at the little pond. Then he asked abruptly, “Could we walk around and you show me some more of the place? Sam was so proud of what you two had accomplished, called it ‘an earthly paradise.'” He waved an arm toward the tiered garden and the masses of blooming shrubs. “Didn't he say that this was originally a tobacco field and you two did all this landscaping? Amazing!”
Leaning over the railing he peered at a drooping fir dotted with bright coral cones. “You've got a lot of plants and things I don't recognize, but some I do remember from my aunt's place. Did I tell you I used to spend summers up here? My mother's people are from Shut In, and I stayed with Aunt Omie every summer till I turned sixteen.” He was silent, evidently remembering those long-ago summers, then he continued, “Do you know Shut In?”
“Actually, Miss Birdie and I passed near there last night on our way over the mountain to the church in Tennessee. Shut In's almost an hour from here,” she explained.
“It was a great place for a kid.” Hawkins's eyes were dreamy. “I had a little hideout under this big bush by the front porch—it was like those bushes with pink flowers there where you parked the car. Aunt Omie called them old pink flower. Or ‘flahr,' as she would have said. What's their real name?”
“Weigela,” said Elizabeth. “Those were just tiny sticks when I planted them about twenty years ago. Now they're eight feet tall and I have to prune at them every year to keep them from taking over.”
“So you two really planted all of this?” Hawkins asked as Elizabeth led the way off the porch down to her gardens.
“Yes, this had all been a hillside tobacco field. We had a bulldozer make a flat place for the house and two smaller flat places below for a yard. It was really just so the girls would have a place to play, but over the years we got into planting more and more flowers and shrubs. At first everything came from friends who'd give me cuttings or divisions from the plants they had in their yards, like the iris and forsythia, the mock orange and the daylilies. But now . . .” She shrugged. “Now I really like to find unusual plants and probably spend more than I should on new flowers and shrubs.”
They were standing by a waist-high rock wall bordering the driveway. Soft gray thymes and golden yellow sedums cascaded over its flat top, while above it spiky clumps of purple irises and cushions of deep pink dianthus bloomed. Elizabeth absently pulled out a few encroaching weeds while Hawkins moved forward.
“What about this wall?” he asked. “It looks like it's been here forever.”
“It does, doesn't it? Actually, Ben just finished it last year. It's made from rocks picked out of the pastures. Ben started work on it back when he just spent summers with us. As a matter of fact, it was Cletus who taught him
“No, that's a northern water snake. They do look a lot like copperheads—that is, till you see the real thing. The water snakes don't have that triangular viper head, but they get killed for copperheads just the same.”
“It doesn't bother you to have snakes so close?” Hawkins watched intently as the snake emerged from the pool, followed by a second smaller one. The two reptiles coiled themselves elegantly on a flat rock in the sun. “A lot of people can't stand to be around snakes of any kind. Like that church service you told me about with the serpent boxes.” He grinned and shook his head. “I know quite a few folks who wouldn't have set foot in that church if there was even a chance of snakes being there, boxes or not.”
“They don't bother me as long as I know what they are. I like to watch them, and they keep the goldfish population under control. And they always go and hide when I have to reach into the pond to get at the filter to clean it.”
Hawkins continued to stare at the little pond. Then he asked abruptly, “Could we walk around and you show me some more of the place? Sam was so proud of what you two had accomplished, called it ‘an earthly paradise.'” He waved an arm toward the tiered garden and the masses of blooming shrubs. “Didn't he say that this was originally a tobacco field and you two did all this landscaping? Amazing!”
Leaning over the railing he peered at a drooping fir dotted with bright coral cones. “You've got a lot of plants and things I don't recognize, but some I do remember from my aunt's place. Did I tell you I used to spend summers up here? My mother's people are from Shut In, and I stayed with Aunt Omie every summer till I turned sixteen.” He was silent, evidently remembering those long-ago summers, then he continued, “Do you know Shut In?”
“Actually, Miss Birdie and I passed near there last night on our way over the mountain to the church in Tennessee. Shut In's almost an hour from here,” she explained.
“It was a great place for a kid.” Hawkins's eyes were dreamy. “I had a little hideout under this big bush by the front porch—it was like those bushes with pink flowers there where you parked the car. Aunt Omie called them old pink flower. Or ‘flahr,' as she would have said. What's their real name?”
“Weigela,” said Elizabeth. “Those were just tiny sticks when I planted them about twenty years ago. Now they're eight feet tall and I have to prune at them every year to keep them from taking over.”
“So you two really planted all of this?” Hawkins asked as Elizabeth led the way off the porch down to her gardens.
“Yes, this had all been a hillside tobacco field. We had a bulldozer make a flat place for the house and two smaller flat places below for a yard. It was really just so the girls would have a place to play, but over the years we got into planting more and more flowers and shrubs. At first everything came from friends who'd give me cuttings or divisions from the plants they had in their yards, like the iris and forsythia, the mock orange and the daylilies. But now . . .” She shrugged. “Now I really like to find unusual plants and probably spend more than I should on new flowers and shrubs.”
They were standing by a waist-high rock wall bordering the driveway. Soft gray thymes and golden yellow sedums cascaded over its flat top, while above it spiky clumps of purple irises and cushions of deep pink dianthus bloomed. Elizabeth absently pulled out a few encroaching weeds while Hawkins moved forward.
“What about this wall?” he asked. “It looks like it's been here forever.”
“It does, doesn't it? Actually, Ben just finished it last year. It's made from rocks picked out of the pastures. Ben started work on it back when he just spent summers with us. As a matter of fact, it was Cletus who taught him
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