Chances Taken or Not

Now, there are those today who will go out

on a limb, crawling inch by inch carefully,

to ask a question. (Limbs can be very ten-

uous and shaky things.) Some will leave home

and proceed to overturn stones searching

for answers. (Careful, you never know what

may be hiding beneath.) I recall stopping

along a sandy back road in the New Mexico

desert one day on my way from Albuquerque

to Santa Fe. I stepped out of my car with

hundreds of scrub bushes in front of me.

Why, you may ask of me? For what reason

was I possessed to do such a thing? Adventure

and curiosity came over me, I suppose. What on

earth lie beyond? The park ranger I had spoken

with earlier warned me that rattle snakes were

prevalent this time of day. Careful where you step.

And as I strolled between the sage brush and thistle,

I heard a foreboding rattling beneath my feet in close

proximity. Of course, I froze immediately to consider

my precarious situation—proceed with caution, or

turn around and run like hell? Now had I no other

way of making it to Santa Fe, I may have been

forced to tip-toe my way through. However, I am

no bloody rancher, neither farmer nor hapless pio-

neer. As a city boy, born and bred, I had often been

witness to and considered myriad street ways of one

day meeting my maker. But before that fine and sunny

day in the wilds of New Mexico, snake bite was never

really a consideration. Run away!

Chris Hanch 3-17-19