It was early Spring and I delighted at watching the skinks sun-bathing on the stone wall outside our sitting room. When I went outside to get a better look at the skinks, I noticed a small copperhead snake coiled on some ground-cover plants. She was just beginning her skin shedding after her hibernation.
Over the next week I saw that some of her scales had remained over her eyes and she was losing condition. Even though snakes use their sense of smell and motion for tracking prey, I
saw her strike at a large beetle in front of her but was concerned when she had only succeeded in getting a mouthful of dried grass. She wouldn’t survive at this rate.
I telephoned the local snake catcher, Neil Arnup, and asked if he could hold her down with his equipment while I removed the white scales from the snake’s eyes with some long-handled tweezers. Neil declined because he thought it too risky a procedure. He offered to remove the snake but I feared that she would die from starvation if left without help.
I cried as I told Jan about the poor snake. He assured me that she might scrape her head against some twigs and dislodge the scales in time, but I lay awake all that night worrying about her plight.
The next morning, I realized that there had been some gentle rain over night. The sun began to shine and my snake appeared. Sharp little yellow eyes searched for skinks on the wall.
Nature takes care of us, and we need to take care of nature.
