KENTUCKY SNAKES by Shaun Turner • Cleaver Magazine
KENTUCKY SNAKES by Shaun Turner Me and Dorsey worked with Gross Lumber down in the woods behind Viola Creek and we’d cut our share of trees. In the woods, not even Lloyd Gross cared how many beers we drank. All the loggers—usually men from McKee—would split a paper-bagged six-pack around noon and just relax. A bird-call would echo, and the foliage would brush against itself, and the insects would hum just behind the brush, and we would puncture our cans with a long metal churchkey in a way that felt smooth, natural. Two years ago, Dorsey was buzzed and he spotted this black rat snake coiled on a pine branch about five feet up. “If it were a copperhead, it could’ve bit me on the neck,” he said, pulling a piece of line from his pocket. “You place the snare where they least expect it,” Dorsey looped the wire into … chop! chop! read more!