Non-Anxiously Paying Attention

On Friday I went over to see how Ken was doing on the bunkie project. Everything's pretty much functional over there now, with two bedrooms, and a bathroom that has plumbing and everything. Electricity too. Living in luxury. Now Ken's just finessing with reclaimed wood for the inside walls, building in custom cubbies, that sort of thing. Looking good.

On the way over along the path, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. It was on the way back that I heard it.

Coming down the hill to the open rock there's a narrower place between the old original building and some already-loaded-waiting-to-ripen blueberry bushes. That's what I was noticing. At first.

It was a quiet, short little zzzz. Not at all like the full out buzz I've heard enough times before to alert me to the presence of its owner. I was pretty sure it was a rattlesnake, yes, but probably just a little one.

So I did what I was supposed to do. I stopped to locate it.
Stop. Locate. Withdraw.
That's the rule.

Took me a while to find him. And he wasn't all coiled up, more like folded in the middle, keeping his head mostly on the ground. And he was big. Big enough. Make an 'ok' sign with your hand and that's about how big he was around in the middle. Couldn't quite tell how long.

Not sure what his deal was. Shedding his skin? Old or sick? Not really in a vibrant mood, that's for sure. But either way, I just wanted to leave him alone, so I retraced my steps and went inside through the old cottage and down the front deck instead.

Next time I went to visit the bunkie, I did the same thing, avoiding that pathway altogether. But by Saturday I thought I'd carefully check.

He was still there. That's when I got this picture. (Don't worry, I used the zoom feature on my camera, I'm not as close at it might look.) And then, wondering if he was even still alive, I tossed a light pine cone in his general vicinity. Got a slight startle reaction, but that's all.

By yesterday, he was gone.

Yes, we have Massassauga rattlers in these parts. We learn to live and let live. In my encounter the other day, he did what he was supposed to do and I did what I was supposed to do and we're all fine. In fact, I happen to think rattlesnakes are one of most polite kind of venomous snakes. They're quite shy. But if you do happen upon one, they let you know they're there. They don't really want to strike you. And most of time, if they've had the chance, they've gotten out of your way before you got there.

The thing is, you just have to pay attention.

I have to admit, in my own life about all sorts of things, I've had to learn the difference between simply paying attention, and anxiously waiting for all the bad things to happen. I'm wired up to think ahead, and lots of times/most of the time that's a good thing.

But if I let it, it can lead to imaging all the worse case scenarios, looking for snakes in every blueberry-laden bush.

Favourite go to here:

"You will keep in perfect peace
those whose minds are steadfast,
because they trust in You."
Isaiah 26:3

I guess I'm 'going to' this a lot lately. There's a lot going on for Ken and I right now that we have to 'pay attention' to, even as we take this break from the city. Last night, by the dock, I truly felt the Spirit inviting me to just receive this down time. To pay attention, but not get all wound up about it all.

We're going in to town today.
Mostly taking in another dump load from the ongoing clean up on the other property.
But a few treats <cough-ice-cap-cough> and just some grocery items we need. Oh, and the hardware store. Always the hardware store.

So Happy Monday friends.
Whatever you've got going, may God's perfect peace lay over it.