I walk through a hay field just north of Camp David.With each afternoon step in near hundred degree Fahrenheit heat,hundreds of grasshoppers scatter.The grasshoppers are fine.It's what may lurk unseen that is troubling:venomous copperhead snakes;Lyme disease-carrying deer ticks;or Rocky Mountain spotted fever vector dog ticks.A hornet's nest may also be underfoot,along with the terribly poisonous brown recluse spider.
Fortunately,none of these threats are encountered.
Approaching the shallow streams at the west end of the field,the terrain is thickly matted dried grasses or rushes.The shallow streams seem to have dried up,but they are hazardous ditches obscured by the hummocks of dried vegetation,threatening a foot or leg injury.
Then again,the spiny and huge garlic mustard-not to mention the prickly teasel-present an obnoxious challenge.I think I am hearing an eastern coyote snarling from its day bed,but it stays in hiding.
An American bumble bee flies off a swamp milkweed,but doesn't seem angry with me.At one point,I realize I have lost my wallet.Fat chance of finding it in this thatchy place;yet incredibly I do just that,retracing my steps with only a little hope.
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