Find It

It was only a matter of time. It's summer. It's hot. And my backyard clean-up has me tramping through patches of old leaves, twisting vines, and weeds growing weeds. I knew it wasn't a question of if, but when will I encounter a snake?

The answer is tonight after dinner. Mark was out picking up milk and ice cream (3 for $6. That's right.) at the HT, and I had my landscaping crew in the backyard doing just one more square of clearing. Stella and I were taking turns with the rake, while Heath was busy loading leaves and sticks in the back of his cozy coupe police car. Fortunately we already had a run-in with a nest of ants, so he was well-suited up in his pirate rain boots. Stella, on the other hand, had managed to take off her shoes and shirt. Just as I was giving them a five minutes left 'til we go in for baths warning, I took my turn with the rake. Gave a good sweeping motion through a pile of leaves, damp with yesterday's rain, and sssszzzzz!!!! It happened. I rustled up a snake. It was alive. It was startled. And it was creepy enough that just thinking about it I have to rub the back of my neck to make sure it didn't jump on me, follow me in the house, and wait until I'm in my bed to make its presence known.

The kiddies were thrilled to have uncovered the grayish-white reptile. They couldn't get close enough to it, couldn't stop reaching out to touch it, and couldn't be told too many times to step back, leave it alone, and let's wait for daddy.

For some reason I was convinced it was a copperhead. Its head had a shiny, coppery look to it. And it's quick, forking tongue had to mean it was a killer snake and getting ready to run after us. Despite Heath and Stella's insistence on taking their red butterfly nets and catching the snake, I insisted they wait for Daddy to get home. Before he could return, the snake slithered back into the leaves that were waiting for me to scoop up. Stella kept creeping up to the leaf pile, waving her net, muttering, Find it, 'nake. Find it. (This is her new favorite phrase. I know she was thrilled to have a reason to say it over and over for an appropriate cause.)

Mark returned (with ice cream...and milk), found the snake, and took it over to our trusty neighbor who is the kind of guy who would know what kind of snake it is, and exactly what to do with it. Turns out I was wrong about the copperhead (and poisonous) identity. Just a harmless, but creepy nonetheless, brown snake. They let it go. Somewhere. I didn't ask. I don't want to know.

Heath can hardly wait to find more in the yard tomorrow. I can hardly wait to get some incredibly tall rain boots, possibly hip waders, and some steel gloves.