Reptile Season

I can't relax during the spring and summer when I'm out walking or running. In fact, the entire time I'm on a heightened alert. Why?

Reptiles.

Snakes are as common as weeds this far below the Mason-Dixon, and they love to poke their pointy, slit-eyed heads out during this time. This particular section of the South is viper central. It's not unusual to find a giant snake carcass by the road or a viper's severed head on the sidewalk. Shovels are the weapon of choice for residents. My brother and I saw a dead python (no exaggeration...it was an actual python) on top of a trash can. This was probably a poorly disposed family pet that wandered into someone's backyard, but given the Florida python invasion has been traveling north, it is not to big of a stretch to start making panic-worthy assumptions.

So I run, but instead of a blind bliss (or grimaced curse), every single thing on the ground is either potentially a snake or a shadow of a snake. I can't enjoy the beauty of the changed season because I've got one eye trained on the ground looking for serpents. Running through a canopy of trees used to be a beautiful, shady event. Winter is just a milder, reptile-free spring, so I have that opportunity. Now I'm wondering how many tree-climbing reptiles exist in the South.

Truth be told, I haven't seen a living snake in the wild in years. A snake head or a road snake tattoo, yes, but not a live one. I've missed the ones that have been near me, even that dangerous moccasin that decided to follow us during the Barbarian Challenge last year.

And with all eyes turned to Heaven, I will be so lucky as to not see one this year, too.