July 16, 2013
Slivery Serpent No Match For Us

I really don't have anything against snakes. In fact I stirred one of the slivery serpents the other night when I was on the hunt for firewood and I left it alone. But I didn't tarry long in the vicinity, that's for certain.

But hearing about my sister's recent encounter with a plague of snakes while tending her lovely rock garden and pond set me to thinkiing about a situation that took place many years ago in my mother's garden. 

Mom's gardens would rival the best around.  She would plan her gardens every year, even mapping it out on paper, and spent hours crafting pathways and layouts long before planting season arrived. Her gardens had rock-lined pathways and a vast variety of plants and flowers, and every year she varied the layout, just for fun and variety.

A source of great pride for her was the wildflower rock garden that she painstakingly created using rocks and plants garnered from the many family travels we experienced   Mom's rock garden was and still is considered a work of art.

With dad's help one year she even added a waterfall and pond amongst the wildflower.  She stocked it with big, fat gold fish that swam contentedly around the trickling water.

But all was not always as expected in mom's garden as we were  to soon discover. 

Turns out she, too, was plagued by a bevvy of snakes that soon discovered a delectable meal was close at hand.  Yes, the snakes in mom's garden developed a liking  for dining on the unsuspecting goldfish that lived there and would dive into the pond in search of goldfish prey.

Raised on a farm, mom was no stranger to the facts of life, and too she wasn't about to put up with snakes raiding her goldfish pond.

One lazy summer afternoon I happened to hear the distressed call of, "Rebecca!!!" coming from the garden.  Running outside expecting the worst, I quickly discovered that mom needed my help. She had trapped a snaky offender in the process of devouring one of our fish and needed assistance in dispatching it on the double.

Now I didn't then, nor do I now, possess the killer instinct.  I usually try to abide by my philosophy of "live and let live".  Wildlife of every sort has the right to live.  Yet in this case, the killer in me quickly boiled to the surface.  I grabbed a nearby spade and ran to mom's assistance, lobbing off the head of the offender in one fell swoop.

I still cannot fathom where I drew the strength to perform such a gruesome task, but I did. And the goldfish lived to see another day, that much I can tell you.  Would I be able to do that again? 

Well, it is said that a mother will protect her offspring with her life. I guess if a snake were to invade my abode I could indeed give it the what-for. But for now I guess I'll just let the wildlife around my home live in harmony. 

However I can't say that for the mosquitoes or other pests that challenge me every day.  I'm giving them fair warning to beware if they go after my flesh or family.  

Deep down, I still harbor a killer instinct and it's there should I ever need to call on it. Fair warning? I should think so!