Autumn Crawlies

In this tiny universe within the giant universe of the city there are many living things.  Not just the humans but a vast variety of wildlife.  It seems very odd to find rabbits, o'possum, raccoons and white tailed deer in an area that is surrounded by four lanes of high speed traffic, but they are here.  It is the same with the bird population, one small section of trees and underbrush provides living quarters for cardinals, tit mice, wrens, towhee, blue birds and even the red shouldered hawk.

The apartment building has four apartments that share one breeze way, two in the front and two in the back with the stairwell in the middle.  As I rounded the corner from our door, with a sack of trash in tow, I was met with a peculiar sight.  Our neighbors to the right front were huddled together, peering around the corner by their door.  I stopped, as there was obviously some rational reason for their behavior and asked what was the matter.  With three sets of eyes wide open, they pointed towards the stairwell.  I looked in that direction and still did not see what had them in such a state of fear.
"That bug!", they said.  I looked closer and there she was.  A large green praying mantis sitting on the upper handrail.  I refer to it as a 'she' since most of the male praying mantis have already met an unfortunate demise.

The trio could not come any closer to the stairs and I offered to make her move.  They agreed and pulled themselves in tighter to their side of the corner.  I walked over and touched her in hopes that she would take flight, but all she did was jump to the outside of the handrail.  This jump sent the family into a tizzy that I feared might make them bail over the railing.  The mantis finally decided she had enough entertainment for the evening and went off into the darkness, surely to seek a much quieter and more hospitable location.

Now that it was safe to venture to the stairwell, the father of this group came around the corner and started down the stairs ahead of me.  As he approached the bottom step he yelled, "A snake!"  Above me I heard the wife and child exclaim "We're outta here!" and their door slammed behind them.  I told him to step on the snake.  He could not do this because he had only socks on his feet.
I do not like to kill anything.  This is something that comes with age and the realization that we all are here for some cosmic reason and share the same living space, but this snake was a water moccasin.  Not only was it a water moccasin, aka cotton mouth according to Google, but it was right next to the door of one of the downstairs apartments.  Sadly, since the poor snake was small enough to fit between the treads on my shoes, I had to do the sneaky snake dance upon it, in order to kill it.  

The man of the upstairs household was most grateful for my brave act and carried on into the darkness in his socked feet.  I made my way, in the dark, to the trash receptacle and hoped I did not run into any more Autumn crawlies.