My biggest problem with snakes is that they usually surprise me when I finally see them. Sneaky little devils. They jump out from under the fence when I’m weed-whacking. They’re usually dead before they hit the ground, but it still causes an nasty adrenaline rush.
Having lived in the northeast my whole life, I have to say that actually seeing a snake in the wild has always been a far too rare treat for me. But when it happens, I always feel especially blessed.
One time when visiting my mom in Florida, I saw a water moccasin hiding in the grass near the pool. I was blessed that time because I only barely missed stepping on it. But it was still cool, and I stood over it and watched it for a while in awe.
One time in the 1970s, I had a job working in a printing shop, and the widow who owned the business had a lovely home with a pool. She came in freaked out one day because she had seen a few snakes by her pool. She paid me a full day's pay me to leave the shop and go to her house to catch the snakes. I caught a few garter snakes, which I brought back and released in the woods across the street from the shop. That was a fun day's work for me, I must say, although it was somewhat marred by an unanticipated bee sting.
I have to admit, though, that I once saw a TV show about a couple whose house was completely infested with garter snakes -- to the point where there were hundreds and hundreds of them jammed on top of each other behind the walls. What's more, garter snakes give off a musky scent, and the house shown apparently reeked from the collective stink.
Ultimately, the only practical solution was to tear down the house and move. So OK, that was a bit creepy, even for me.
Still, I still consider myself lucky to see a wild snake. I always related to the excitement that the late Steve Irwin would express when ever he found a wild snake, although the ones he found were usually poisonous. Crikey!!