Thursday, 09 August 2001 | Snake hunt

Three Copperhead snakes have been spotted in Martin's mom's yard in the past week, confining cat and dog to the house and making his mom nervous. So yesterday for some reason I decided to join Martin and a snake-handling friend of his on a mission to coax the snakes from their hiding places in order to snag them and move them to a less-populated area. I don't really know how we were going to do that, once the snakes revealed themselves; I never got to see that maneuver because they all stayed uninterested, unprovoked, absent or hidden. It was a curious feeling, though, jabbing bushes with a long pole, half-hoping a snake would spring out and half-hoping one wouldn't. Martin did find a Rough Earth Snake, though, and I volunteered to hold it; its tiny body thrashed around in my cupped hands, trying to fling itself free. (It was about the size of five earthworms attached end-to-end; I'm not as brave as it might sound.)

In the backyard I was careful to slide my feet through the grass rather than stepping indiscriminately, as to not bring my boot down directly on a snake more intimidating than the one I'd been holding. In doing that, it seems I rang the mosquito dinner bell, because suddenly I noticed their little wiry bodies perched all over my bare skin. At that point I went inside.