A racket overloaded my hearing aids. It sounded mechanical at first but I was in the McDowell Sonoran Preserve reslinging my pack after a snack and getting ready for the last long uphill of the day; nothing mechanical there. Then atavism overcame analysis and instinct recognized the sound. The rattlesnake sunning on the rock next to the one I sat on for lunch was much thicker than I would've expected. Most of it was coiled except for its head and tail. I didn't stop to get my phone out of my pack to take its picture. Later I wrote to my grandson Jack who shares my appreciation of Shel Silverstein and Ogden Nash.
I saw a snake;
The snake saw me.
"Skedaddle," he said with his rattle,
Causing me to flee.
Jack responded with illustrations.