It’s one of those days that reminds me why I live in Maine–all sharp-edged clarity and cool low humidity. Sun streaming and the air scented with a potpourri of scents: lilac, wisteria, lily of the valley, and freshly mown grass. I putter about the yard, moving from garden to garden, enjoying my haphazard wandering, surrounded by bountiful evidence of spring’s entrenchment. I weed here and there, spread some mulch. Every so often I stop to admire tendrils of growth or newly emerged blooms. To gently brush variegated leaves. I’m deeply and utterly content to be where I am, doing what I’m doing.
I reach into the half-weeded side garden, where bee balm and evening primrose thrive along with some needs-to-be weeded long grass. I lean further in to pick up a plastic pot filled with hard and shrunken soil. I’d had sweet peas in there last year, hoping they would wind there way up the side of the outbuilding. No such luck. What might I do this year?
The day shifts to shudder when I see, or sense a flash of movement and feel a sudden slithering whisper over the back of my hand. My shriek shatters the crystal blue tranquility of the day. I drop the pot, jumping backward, and recognize the sinuous form–SNAKE– in the same instant that it computes:
OMG! It just slithered over my hand!!!
The pot tumbles back to earth and there’s a flash of muscular scales as the snake nestles further into the shadow between the pot and the earth. I hold my hand to my heart, struggling to slow its frantic pace.
After a few minutes I step forward, my curiosity getting the better of me. In my mind, my favorite mantra of all time loops on repeat: There are NO poisonous snakes in Maine! There are NO poisonous snakes in Maine! I’m pretty sure it must be a garter snake. I can remember my grandmother speaking fondly to them in her own garden. I’m not sure I’m up to that, but still, I’m slowly drawn forward.
At first I can only see one bend of snake, looped up over the soil. The sheen of overlapping scales is almost beautiful. Almost. Then I see the head, tucked down into the shadows. A glimmer of eye. The snake is clearly watching me and is also clearly entrenched. After a few moments, I go inside to get my camera and return to take a few photos. The distance of a lens is always helpful.
It isn’t too long before I realize that it isn’t just one snake. There are actually TWO of them. I can’t suppress another little shudder. One is bolder and pops its head out. Its tongue flickers wildly, no doubt trying to pinpoint my presence. I see the forked black end of the tongue emerge over and over, noting how it turns to red when the tongue is fully emerged. I’m sort of grotesquely fascinated. This snake and I lock eyes as I take a few photos. I murmur a few reassurances. I won’t hurt it, but I’m not going to pet it either!
We pass several long moments together. My heart settles down. We watch each other carefully. The small space between us hums with possibility.
After a while, I leave the snake and return to my puttering. Every so often I cast a wary eye toward that garden. Perhaps the primrose and bee balm will thrive even with the weeds in their midst. It seems I’ll be sharing that garden for the summer. Now that I’m aware of that, I’m sort of…maybe…okay with it. But I’m pretty sure I won’t be weeding much there.
Nix the comfort zone 
WOW! Great storytelling! You first capture the feel of proud gardener, puttering amongst the smells and colors. Weeding here and there. THEN, the encounter! And again, you shift and describe the actions and inner feeling so well. Thanks for sharing!
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Thanks, Sally! There was definitely a shift involved!
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What a fun slice! I love the surprise and the way you bring us to the moment! Those look like Decays Brown snakes – harmless and good for loosening the soil. Does your state have a snake ID page on Facebook? I joined ours a couple of years ago, and I have learned so much about the different snakes we have here in Georgia (we have 6 venomous species). I wish they could all be rattlesnakes, because at least these will give an audible warning. Our other three varieties can’t warn us we are too close. I love a snake slice!
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I have come a long way with my snake fear, but I do still have an instinctive, strong recoil! I’m not sure I could spend time looking at photos and reading about them…yet. I am ever thankful that we don’t have venomous snakes here! The idea of silent venomous ones is terrifying!
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This was great! With this kind of Maine promotion, you might see an influx of folks moving there. But the snake…YIKES! The slither over the hand is just as body cringing as when I stepped on a black snake barefoot scaring both of us nearly to death. However, not poisonous means, “Welcome!” in my book, because snakes eat mice!!! It will be fun to watch their growth throughout the summer months…perhaps babies? 😉
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I found them snuggling again later that day. I’ll definitely keep an eye out and make sure to announce my presence when I near that particular garden!
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Oh wow– I just read Kim’s post about ticks and now yours about snakes. I really do love gardening and being outside, but the two of your posts have my skin tickling.
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Ticks and snakes are not great PR for Mother Nature, are they? I hate ticks and find no redeeming qualities in them. I know snakes have some and wish I were more comfortable around them.
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Wow, that is a big snake! I have seen little ones here in my Minnesota garden but none are as big as yours. I agree with you that section of the garden really does not need weeding this year.
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I think the picture is probably a bit deceptive. It wasn’t that big. Although now that I try to think how long it was, it must have been well over a foot…yup…definitely skipping the intensive weeding in that bed!
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I love the multiple turns in your story: “The day shifts to shudder…” and “…my curiosity getting the better of me.” and “The small space between us hums with possibility.” Seems like there might be a narrative poem about a YOU in all of this! (wink wink)
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Now that’s an idea! Thanks!
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This was not the surprise I was hoping for. You gave me a fright. Well written.
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Sorry for the fright. It really wasn’t what I was looking for in my garden either!
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What an evocative description of a quintessential spring day in Maine, Molly! (I’ve only been to Maine in the summertime.) Your ability to vividly capture the sensory pleasures of gardening, followed by the thrilling encounter with snakes, creates a lovely balance of tranquility and tension that is authentic and relatable.
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Thanks, Stacey. It’s been just gorgeous here lately and I’m drinking in every moment of it!
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Well written! You took us right with you. My favorite line is: ‘The small space between us hums with possibility.’
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Thanks, Fran. I’m glad you mentioned that line.
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I was about to head out to my backyard to do some weeding myself. I think I will wait now. I fear the snake.
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Oh, Sorry! I have gotten less fearful as I’ve gotten older, but I still don’t seek them out. This one was a total shocker!
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As long as they stay in the garden! We had a pair in our front yard last year that somehow ended up in our house! “grotesquely fascinated” is a great term!
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Oh! I think I remember your blog post about that! You did write one, didn’t you!?
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I did! Good memory!
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Molly, you have captured the fear and fascination people have with our slithery reptile friends. I hope you do get to see it more this summer (from a distance) and that s/he behaves itself. Weeding is overrated!
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I wish I could be more fascinated. I definitely am not as freaked out as I used to be, but I’m decidedly uncomfortable…especially when one sneaks up on me!
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It appears snakes have sharpened your power of observation even more with the details you provide. Snakes startle me no doubt. Why a turtle as I was coming in from hanging the laundry surprised me as it was laying her eggs!
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How fun to come upon a turtle laying eggs! We haven’t seen any yet this year. While I was watching the snake, I was thinking how much its head looked like a turtle head.
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[…] spending time in a spring garden…at least when you’re not being surprised by reptiles (here). Whenever I can find the time, I’ve been soaking up the essence of my garden. In between the […]
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[…] If you want to see photos from my adventure (or read the prose version), you can visit my Slice of Life post. […]
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What a surprise. That would have freaked me out. I don’t know if I would be able to take photos of him/her. Snakes are scary but wondrous creatures.
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