Tanglefoot Trail Wildlife: The Skunk Standoff
The weather has been hot in Mississippi, but early mornings are still a good time to enjoy the Tanglefoot Trail wildlife. If you enjoy riding the trail, start early—that’s exactly what I did one morning last week.
My husband had grass to cut, so I took off down the trail by myself. Riding alone doesn’t bother me. The trail is very safe, and we usually see people we know along the way.
Actually, I enjoy riding alone occasionally because I can stop and linger as long as I want whenever I see something worth photographing. I always carry my camera with me—which turned out to be a very good thing that day.
Lord, Show Me Some Pretty Birds
As I rode out of town, I enjoyed the cool breeze and the quiet sounds of nature—the birds singing, insects buzzing, and twigs and leaves crunching beneath my tires.
“Lord, show me some pretty birds today,” I thought. “I’m riding alone, so I won’t be holding anyone up when I stop.”
It was the perfect scenario for bird photography because sometimes you just have to sit still and wait.
I rode on for a while, but I didn’t see any birds—or anything else—to photograph.
Then everything changed.
Breakfast in the Middle of the Trail
Don’t let anyone ever tell you that God doesn’t have a sense of humor.
Up ahead, I spotted something dark in the middle of the trail. I figured it was probably a dog or a cat, so I got my camera out.
To my surprise, it was a lovely skunk having breakfast.
Now, even though I’m a country girl, I had no idea how close I could safely get to a skunk without being sprayed. I just knew I couldn’t let that happen!
So I waited…and waited.
He would wander over to the side of the trail, then come right back to the middle. Off to the side, back to the middle. He was taking his time with breakfast and apparently had no plans to accommodate me.
A Northern Cardinal didn’t have any problem being close to the skunk. It hopped around as if nothing unusual was happening. It’s funny how animals can share the same space and not be bothered by one another.
It reminded me of the two deer we saw the week before, casually crossing the trail alongside a flock of turkeys and their young—like they were all headed off to Thanksgiving dinner!
He Wasn’t Going Anywhere
The skunk wasn’t concerned about me at all. I rang my trike bell. I hollered. Nothing fazed him.
Finally, after about 15 minutes, he wandered approximately 20 feet off the trail. I decided that was my chance to make an escape.
Fourteen miles per hour is the maximum speed on my e-trike, and you’d better believe I had it going 14 miles per hour!
I made it safely past the skunk and continued on my journey, still without any specific birds to photograph.
Surely that was enough excitement for one morning.
It wasn’t.
“Snake Ahead!”
As I continued south, I met a young man jogging who called out, “Snake ahead!”
Well, really?
For a moment, I thought perhaps I should turn around and go home. Then again, the skunk might have returned for another course of breakfast, so I decided to keep going.
Thank goodness the jogger warned me. Otherwise, I might have ridden right up on that snake before I saw it.
Because I had a warning, I was able to spot it and stop far enough away that I didn’t disturb it.
Now, once again, I’m a country girl—but when it comes to snakes, a snake is a snake is a snake. It doesn’t matter to me whether someone calls it a “good” snake. Venomous snakes scare me more, of course, but I don’t want a close encounter with any snake.
This one was stretched out across the trail, soaking up the morning sun. It appeared to be about five or six feet long.
Male or female, I don’t know. Isn’t it funny that when it’s something we don’t particularly like, we automatically call it “him” or “he”?
Apparently, He Was There First
The snake wasn’t moving, so I threw a few sticks near it and even tossed some rocks.
He finally raised his head as if to say, “You’ve got to be kidding. I was here first.”
He reminded me of those sunbathers around a pool who get there early and claim their lounge chairs for the entire day.
I waited…and waited…but it became obvious that he wasn’t going anywhere either.
Once again, I kicked the trike into high gear. I had just enough room to get around the tail end of the snake, and I made it past safely.
By this point, I really was thinking that perhaps I should turn around and go home. But I continued south and took a few photographs along the way—nothing spectacular.
God’s Sense of Humor
It made me wonder whether God’s sense of humor was at work that morning.
Maybe He was saying, “You don’t think all My creations are pretty? Here, I’ll show you a few.”
I had asked to see pretty birds. Instead, I got a stubborn skunk having breakfast and a snake sunbathing across the trail.
On the return trip north, I started worrying about where I had seen the snake. I knew it had been lying near a bridge—but which bridge?
Thankfully, I didn’t see it again.
Then I started thinking about the skunk. What if he had returned for lunch?
Fortunately, I didn’t see him again as I got closer to Pontotoc, either.
Was It the Same Skunk?
Here’s the funny part: We rode in that same direction again yesterday, and on the way home, I spotted another skunk!
Do you think it was the same one?
Terry didn’t see it and sped right on by, so I did the same. Luckily, the skunk wasn’t interested in either of us.
My solo ride turned out to be a bust as far as getting the “pretty” bird photographs I had hoped for.
I did, however, get a photograph of this female Northern Cardinal.
Her expression seemed to sum up my entire trip that day:
