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By JEANNE KIRKPATRICK
Rappahannock News Contributing Writer
Barney’s gone and I miss him.
He was typical for his type. His every move denoted evil and treachery. Most descriptions say he is deceptive, secretive. But his silent, sinuous ways were very natural-he was, after all, a Black Snake. His demeanor included six feet of slithering movement and this didn’t promote much in the way of making friends.
Snakes are not my forte. My dislike of them is as strong as the next guy’s. I still don’t love them, but Barney taught me respect for the things I don’t know. At first my regard for Barney grew out of selfpreservation.
My husband and I recently moved into an area where our nearest neighbors included copperheads and rattlesnakes. The local farmersand they should know-had it that Black Smakes were a predator of copperheads and the like and we should leave them alone.
It was hard. There’s something about a six-foot slithering snake in the yard that makes the skin crawl. But I decided to watch from a distance and leave him alone.
I had plenty of opportunities to do this, seeing him progress along side of the house, crossing our driveway or going up our twin oak in the yard. It took great forbearance to stifle the desire to get a hoe and hack him to pieces.
There was only one confrontation-we both came around the same comer from opposite directions. Coming face-to-face around that corner was frightening, but he just kept his head suspended in air, not moving, until I backed away and gave him space. Then he continued on his way.
I’ve met a few Barney’s in my
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