Last week I nearly had a heart attack. From our kitchen window I noticed an 7-inch goldfish lying on a rock bordering our garden pond and figured it had jumped out and got stranded. I couldn't see it moving but decided I would toss it back into the water and hope it survived. 

I hurried out to the pond and around the Mugo pine at the back. I leaned over to grab the fish, but when my hand was inches from the fish I froze. The fish hadn't flipped itself out of the water; it had been dragged out. Staring up at me with lifeless eyes and its mouth stretched wide over the face of the goldfish was a snake.

That's when I nearly had a heart attack. After I settled down, I ran inside to get my camera. The snake was amazingly patient (or hungry) and let me take a lot of pictures.  As you can see from the photos at the bottom of this newsletter, the snake didn't lack ambition. Maybe it was going for one last feast before hibernation. Garter snakes are common in our backyard, but we haven't identified this one. 

After I finished taking as many photos as I wanted, the snake slipped back into the pond, dropped the fish, and disappeared. Amazingly, the goldfish lived. But Carol and I tread more carefully in our garden now.

This month's feature article is the first in a series of three about sensation as a fiction-writing mode.   

Happy Fiction Writing,

Mike