The day I met copperhead while wearing sandals
Her message of showing mutual respect to avoid conflict.
To the gigantic, venomous copperhead snake that did not bite me yesterday, thank you.
You made a sound that got my attention. Maybe from your movement through the leaves? Without the sound, I wouldn't have noticed you. Your camouflage is incredible. And stunning. I was headed right toward you.
Thank you for the warning that I was getting too close. Thank you for giving me a moment to step backward (in sandaled feet) to a safe distance.
Later, once I could breathe normally, I asked if you had wanted to bite me. And you said No. You said you prefer mutual respect to avoid conflict.
And then I remembered … I’ve met copperheads in the past:
At twelve years old, I managed a quick double step in the air while running in tall grass, avoiding a cluster of baby copperhead snakes, their bright yellow tail tips etched in my memory as I avoided placing my bare foot in the mix.
Thirty years later, a baby copperhead moved beneath my hand as I weeded a lush bed of Moonbeam Coreopsis flowers. Again, I noticed the bright yellow tail tip before spotting the full snake.
And today. Phew.
Who knows how many copperheads I’ve met without noticing — they blend so perfectly with their surroundings.
I will be more cautious. I will buy a pair of snake boots. And, I am grateful.
