Late yesterday morning, we noticed a garter snake coiled between two clumps of day lilies. Apparently, he had emerged from the rock wall behind the garden and was attempting to warm up in the fleeting sunshine. I checked on him over the next few hours and he barely moved; at one point, a small beetle actually crawled along his winding torso and, for a few minutes, rested on the snake's head. It would be mid afternoon before my wife's crusade against lawn onions spooked him into the rock wall; perhaps he attempted another hunt in the evening.
Many people, especially those afraid of snakes, imagine that these "dangerous and menacing" creatures slither across the landscape, snaring helpless victims in their path; after all, the serpent is the image of the devil himself! In fact, most terrestrial snakes hunt by stealth; camouflaged amidst foliage, rocks or forest debris, they wait for unwary insects, frogs, birds or small mammals to wander by and, depending on the species, inject them with venom or suffocate them in their coils. They are, indeed, patient creatures.
Humans who are bitten by snakes are usually walking in the dark, climbing in rocky areas, carelessly reaching into wood piles or attempting to handle the reptile. Those who stay on trails can generally spot them at a safe distance and, when left alone, these agile hunters would rather avoid a confrontation. Who would think that humans have plenty to learn from snakes?
