Relative Something

I am not a fan of the startling movement of grass blades when a snake suddenly slithers nearby. When it occurs as I am walking, my body responds with an adrenaline surge that triggers a recoil reflex. Even if I’m on the mower when the wiggly legless reptiles make an appearance, I experience an involuntary shudder. I would not be surprised to learn I was bitten by a snake in a past life.

It brings me no joy to find the discarded skin of a snake even though I am happy to know there are rodent predators patrolling our grounds. Snakes can live here and eat as many pesky moles and mice as possible, I just don’t want to see them.

The sight of a 3-foot-long snake skin on the mowed path around the back pasture brings me no joy. If skin that long didn’t fit anymore, I don’t want to know how big it is now.

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