Last Tuesday was warm and sunny here in Mole Creek, and Sharon suggested we walk in the bush looking for sheep that may be free-ranging outside our paddocks. Being somewhat tired of indoor/computer work, I readily agreed. At 11:30 a.m. off we set. We’d gone 250 metres along a bush track when suddenly Sharon cried out ‘Don’t move. Stay still’. About four metres in front of us, was a snake. Dusky green. A metre long. We froze. It obliviously slithered away. We walked on for an hour, saw no more snakes, saw no sheep, and went home. In Tasmania there’re only three snake species: tiger, copperhead, and white-lipped whip. They’re often hard to tell apart. I don’t know which one we saw on Tuesday. I don’t care. All are venomous and potentially fatal. Each year, during the snake season from October to March, I see 3-5 snakes on our property. Unlike killing sheep and goats, I’m yet to become inured to seeing them. My heart still thumps. I recall the precise locations where I’ve seen them over the years. And I’m careful when I go there. In fact during the snake season I’m always vigilant. But I reckon they’re more frightened of me than I am of them. I respect them and their place in the ecosystem. Their home is my home.
1 comment:
Snakes are also found in Melbourne. Or are they?
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