The very first time we ever visited our house, months before we’d even bought it, Jason had a near miss with a black snake about 4 or 5 feet long down by an olive tree. Jason (unlike me), is a very unjumpy person – but even he leaped several feet as this huge critter darted across his path, almost running him over. I’d been looking at another bit of the grove and caught not even a glimpse. But ever since, I’ve always half expected to encounter a snake whenever I’ve descended into the grove, particularly if i am on my own first thing in the morning. I always wear wellies and practise a nonchalant reaction.
There have been several near sightings. One time visitors came to see their tree and saw the tail end (isn’t a snake all tail end?) of another big one, darting off behind one of the big oak trees. I was making coffee at the time.
Another time Antonio met one asleep under an olive tree in the early morning. This he claims was a venomous one (the big black ones aren’t) so for safety he stabbed it in the head with his handsaw. I was off in another row clearing suckers out of a different tree so knew nothing.
Yet another time, one poked its cheeky head out of one of the drainage pipes that pokes through the tumbledown garden wall, glimpsed Jason and was never seen again. I was the other side of the wall pulling weeds.
Well this week all my near miss
es were forgotten as I enjoyed my first bona fide snake sighting. I was sitting in the office, working at the computer when I looked up through the glass door into the garden. Plain as daylight, there it was, sort of slithering around like a slightly directionless bellydancer. Rather beautiful and rhythmic but also quite big and long and stuff of horror films like. I stood up to get a closer look and even the tiny sound of my moving chair was enough to prick its ears (do they have ears?) and it was off. I was going to say ‘it legged it’. It moved so fast, it defied human logic – how could anything with no legs run so quickly? It almost flew in its strange spirally wiggle, covering at least double the distance those clever crows fly.
So there it is, another achievement to strike off my rural ‘to do’ list.
