Living on a mountain, no matter how tame it appears to visitors, is a different world than the city. You learn to drive down the mountain for your mail, newspapers and to take your garbage to the dump. You even learn that water is not to be taken for granted on a mountain, it has to be pumped up from the lines below and losing electricity can mean losing water as well.
There is something sweet about having to stop your car for a deer, or two or three, trying to make up their mind which direction they want to head from the middle of the road. And the occasional flock of wild turkey is also charming to watch. Even a bear from the safety of your deck or car is interesting.
I have learned to live with the tiny field mice with giant ears that make it into the house somehow each winter, although I am not overly fond of them. However, the snake curled up in my flower bed or on my walk is another thing. I have learned somewhat of poisonous versus non-poisonous, but they all give me a start once I realize they are around.
My worse nightmare happened a few years ago when a big black snake crawled into the house through an open door on a beautiful fall afternoon. He obviously had never watched animal kingdom and did not cooperate with our trying to get him to wrap around a broom handle to get out of the house. These black snakes do not seem to be scared of humans. Quite a few of my neighbors have had them visit.
Another creation I have no desire to meet is the mountain lion which roams the woods. Several neighbors have had brief interactions with these cats. Occasionally late at night you hear what appears to be the screams of a demented female. It's just the cats.....as if that is somehow reassuring.
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