Meet my brave, new friend Bob — Bob White. I met him this week as he parked and piddled his way through my backyard and called sweetly his country song right outside my window. He was so close, I could see his chest puff and his head tilt back with each delightful bellow of the quail’s familiar tune “bob white…bob white.”
A few feet to the right, he stopped suddenly and began to cock his little black and white striped head and walk in a circle. I was certain he had spotted a wiggly morsel. In short order, my eyes spied what he had already seen — a black snake considerably larger than any old earthworm. As he pondered the size of his prey, he continued his circulating intimidation. And I winced and shuttered and worried, just knowing I was about to see that beautiful little bird become the dinner instead of the diner. They eyed one another in an exchange of power and fear, with the quail’s head ever tilting and the snake’s coiled body arching higher from the grass with his every pass. 