I promise this is the last of my herpetological rants. If you're a facebook friend and you've already tired of my over-the top reaction to this writhing garden visitor, (God, I hope he/she's just visiting) just skip this post and pick up on tomorrow's Rhubarb-Strawberry Crumble recipe.
So, I'm planting the slope under my lilac tree, and I see a few tatty, raggedy edges on the raspberries. I go over and start snipping and whenever I am near any berry bush, the same thought rolls round in my head. I picture my mom and her berry bucket and her snake stick. And I say to myself, hmmm, it's not the berries they like, it's just the shade. And shade is everywhere.
And before you can say *#@&*#@!!!! there is a long snake under my feet. Not an anaconda, "just a garter snake", as people like to say. "Oh, they eat mice", "They won't hurt you", "It's not poisonous". Thank you, I know all that. It does nothing for the cold chills and heart palpitations that accompany this sighting.
I know I can't pick and choose when I garden with wildlife habitat in mind, but when it comes to snakes, screw that circle of life stuff.
You see, I grew up in the coastal foothills of California, I have seen a few snakes in my time. In fact, more than I like to recall. Rattlesnakes were more numerous than playmates in my neighborhood. I used to call my father down to the driveway to dispatch the deadly creatures that shared my space.
While my father used a sharp shovel and the up, close and personal approach; my mom was more into heavy machinery. Whenever she saw a snake anywhere near our house, she would take her '56 Buick and run them over, then throw it in reverse, and repeat the procedure a few times. She always made sure to see the flattened serpent in the rear view mirror, so as not to have it wrap around the tires and take a ride home with us.
The Minnesota DNR suggests playing a radio in the garden to repel them; they are apparently ultra-sensitive to vibrations. On our Master Gardener discussion board, I found I was not alone this week in my snake-seeing. One MG mentioned there might be a hybernaculum nearby my singular snake. I had never heard that word but know enough Latin to comprehend it is the stuff of nightmares; a roiling coil of reptiles a la Indiana Jones and the Lost Empire. Thanks, lady.
For most of my adult life, my tact has been to totally avoid them. I know where they like to hang out; sunning on rock piles, cooling off in deep mulch, slithering through tall grass, foraging under logs, etc. I have been lucky or oblivious to never encounter one is any of my gardens. Yet when we moved to this house with its woods and wetlands and water, I knew there was going to come a day. After three years, that day came.
And this is why the telephotos lens was invented.
