Nows and Forevers

Been here a whole week, and I haven’t seen my nemesis yet. And I’m hoping I don’t.

The last time, last summer, was quite an experience. One minute, I was taking a photograph of the reflection of a pond on the clear, warm water. The next, I heard a bit of a splash and found a 14-foot alligator, staring at me from his perch in the water’s edge, about 3 feet away.

Was I ever surprised. He could have attacked and I would never have known what hit me.

I moved away quickly, turning and sprinting into the safety of the house where I was staying. Then I walked to the window overlooking the pond, to find the alligator’s eyes, above water with the rest of it submerged, unmoving. The gator stayed that way for a good five minutes, then turned and slid away.

A big guy, he was. I would have been a snack.

I don’t have a ton of experience with alligators. I’d never seen one in the wild until I came to this house, and more importantly, I never did want to see one. There’s something ancient and sinister about them, and I’ve read enough stories to know how horrible they can be if they’re angry or hungry.

This one, even though I call it my nemesis, was apparently neither angry nor hungry.

Still, I don’t want to see it ever again. This picture is what I took from the safety of the house. I was much closer, outside.

I took this from inside the house I was staying in, a few minutes after I ran away from this gator. Where I stood, without realizing the gator was there, was in the lefthand frame right on the edge.