"Got one, Patti."

"Good. A copperhead?"

"No. A crayfish."

"Oh."

I didn't know why she sounded so disillusioned. After all, it was wanting to see a crayfish, the firebacked crayfish to be exact, that had drawn us to the Apalachicola National Forest. The copperhead (a southern copperhead, Agkistrodon c. contortrix) was to have been a secondary prize.



But now, with the beautiful crayfish--one of several species, the natural color of which is similar to a well-boiled Maine lobster, found and photographed, it was copperhead time.

Our plan was to follow and check both leaf-strewn, sun-patched, banks of the meandering ravine-stream in hopes of seeing one of these well-camouflaged snakes.

That was our plan. But the copperheads had plans of their own. Their plans, it seemed, contrary to the norm, were to make things as easy as possible for we bumbling humans.

And their plan superseded ours. Barely 2 steps out of the stream we found the first copperhead stretched across one of the few open patches. And although we only needed one for photos, about 10 steps farther, lying quietly in a tight coil, was a second copperhead. Success.

Our next stop would be on the Chipola River in hopes of finding a map turtle. But that's another story.