Niccccce to see you!
Many folks ask me how I manage to get this close to a copperhead snake. My reply: “That’s not a copperhead.” Their reply: “You speak with forked tongue!” My reply: “Well, no, but this fella does.” I respect snakes, but I have no fear of them, largely because my mom did have an unreasonable fear of all things scaly. Fear usually results from lack of knowledge. I’ve studied them throughout the years… I can easily identify most any snake indigenous to the southern United States and I understand their behavior. Apart from a few aggressive snakes, most snakes would never bother you unless you bother them. Saying that, I do realize that I’ve been chased from many a good fishing hole in Florida and Georgia by some ill-tempered water moccasins… it’s better to find another spot than to be bitten by those critters. I’ve had better encounters with alligators than I’ve had with water moccasins that often showed me how they got their other moniker, the cottonmouth, as they let me know how displeased they were with my proximity… and I was usually there first!
This is not a copperhead, but rather a northern water snake. It is banded with similar colors of a copperhead, but the copperhead is mottled rather than banded. It also has a round pupil as opposed to the copperhead’s vertical pupil, much like a cat’s eye. It also doesn’t have the broad head of a pit viper, as does the copperhead. Though the northern water snake is essentially harmless to people, it does have teeth and will bite if threatened, so it’s best to just leave them alone.
The banding of water snakes is excellent camouflage in the dappled light of its watery domain, though not all are banded. The color scheme of copperheads makes them nearly invisible this time of year amongst fallen leaves. The North Carolina coast is the perfect habitat for many venomous snakes such as canebrakes, diamondback rattlers, moccasins, and coral snakes. The North Carolina mountains is a great environment for both timber and diamondback rattlers, as well as copperheads. Durham, situated between the uplands and the coastal plains in a geomorphic area defined as a fall line, has only one species of venomous snake… the copperhead. While it may be the only pit viper in the area, there are a lot of them, so it’s not unusual to come across them… you need to be extra vigilant this time of year.
Once upon a time, I lived on a farm not far away in Mebane. A brilliant maple had already shed a blanket of colorful leaves across the yard one beautiful fall day. I admired that as I inspected my grill… it would be used later that day for dinner with friends. As I turned to go back to the cabin for cleaning supplies, I heard more than saw movement near my feet… it was one of the biggest copperheads I’d ever seen in the wild. It was beautiful and blended easily with the fallen leaves. Under normal circumstances, I’d have just attempted to chase it off to the fields where it could be happy chasing the myriad of mice there… that would make me happy, too, as I had worse incidents with mice than I had with snakes. With so many places to hide, including beneath the leaves, however, I thought it better to dispatch this rascal than for it to be a problem for my guests. I eased around it and went for my rifle. As I’d figured, it wasn’t where I left it when I returned. I scanned for it and moved carefully toward the tree. I must have stood in the last spot for ten minutes before I finally saw it raised up out of the leaves not more than eight feet from me, watching my every move… again, I believe it was the slight movement of its head rather than the shape that caught my eye. I knew what I was looking for, yet it was so difficult to see in the leaves. That made me realize that even your utmost attentiveness may not be enough, so walk a clear path in the woods and wear better footgear than sandals and flipflops. Heat-seeking pit vipers would easily target that.
For those of you who wonder about my fascination of creatures that my mother so feared, here’s how that happened: the first movie I remember seeing was Tarzan's Desert Mystery, starring Johnny Weissmuller as Tarzan. It was a classic black & white movie, but that didn't matter, as our brand-new TV back in that day was black & white too. That was around 1960, and it made an impression on the five-year-old me. I WAS Tarzan! In that movie, Jane is away, doing her part as a nurse in the war effort, while Tarzan and Boy do their part in retrieving rare medicinal herbs for the Allies, but their efforts are hindered by the strange flora and fauna of the mysterious desert, two such creatures something totally new to me... dinosaurs! Or a reasonable facsimile for back in the day. They were actually an iguana and a monitor lizard (dressed in "dinosaur" movie makeup), shot closeup while tussling with each other to look like big monsters on the silver screens of 1943. As is the way of the military, we moved around a lot, and shortly thereafter we lived in a place in California with a canal nearby... with pilings... where iguanas sunned themselves... and I was going have myself a dinosaur. For some reason, I was pulling my baby brother along with me in a little red wagon, perhaps to throw my mother off as to my true intentions... to sneak up on a huge snoozing lizard and wrestle it to submission. I did exactly that, though it turns out they're quite alert even when they appear not to be... after a bit of struggle, I securely snugged one up under my arm with a grip on its throat to keep it from biting me, and then made my way back home with my brother in tow. My mom opened the door for me as I kicked it… I was busy with a huge snapping lizard in one hand and holding onto my brother with the other hand.
What I remember most after that was my mom's face contorting to accommodate the hair-raising scream she loosed on me... and then she slammed the door on me. I don't know what my brother thought about that, but his hair hasn't been the same since. I was a little older and more used to such situations. Even so, I couldn’t understand what the big deal was that caused such a reaction. She had apparently called my dad with concern to an emergency at home... he showed up shortly afterward. In ways that truly good dads do, he explained reality to me without shooting my youthful enthusiasm down in flames... I could either live with the iguana, that would never love me, or with my momma who fed and cared for me... but, as she had a fear of reptiles, I couldn't live with both... and then he added that she needed me to keep such critters away. I've always been a sucker for those in need... what else could I do? Even Tarzan kept those pesky lions and crocodiles at bay. While Tarzan is a fictional character, the impression I had was that he didn’t fear animals. Rather, he realized that this is their world, too, and he respected and understood them. About eleven years later, I met Johnny Weissmuller, and a very old and blind Cheetah (the chimpanzee), in Titusville, Florida. I told him that he had gotten me into trouble... he laughed.
By the way, are you experiencing problems with the Flickr map? It seems to be fascinated with the All Star Mobile Home Park, as this isn't the first time it's made note of it. This was taken at Yates Mill Park in Raleigh. I know. I was there.
Niccccce to see you!
Many folks ask me how I manage to get this close to a copperhead snake. My reply: “That’s not a copperhead.” Their reply: “You speak with forked tongue!” My reply: “Well, no, but this fella does.” I respect snakes, but I have no fear of them, largely because my mom did have an unreasonable fear of all things scaly. Fear usually results from lack of knowledge. I’ve studied them throughout the years… I can easily identify most any snake indigenous to the southern United States and I understand their behavior. Apart from a few aggressive snakes, most snakes would never bother you unless you bother them. Saying that, I do realize that I’ve been chased from many a good fishing hole in Florida and Georgia by some ill-tempered water moccasins… it’s better to find another spot than to be bitten by those critters. I’ve had better encounters with alligators than I’ve had with water moccasins that often showed me how they got their other moniker, the cottonmouth, as they let me know how displeased they were with my proximity… and I was usually there first!
This is not a copperhead, but rather a northern water snake. It is banded with similar colors of a copperhead, but the copperhead is mottled rather than banded. It also has a round pupil as opposed to the copperhead’s vertical pupil, much like a cat’s eye. It also doesn’t have the broad head of a pit viper, as does the copperhead. Though the northern water snake is essentially harmless to people, it does have teeth and will bite if threatened, so it’s best to just leave them alone.
The banding of water snakes is excellent camouflage in the dappled light of its watery domain, though not all are banded. The color scheme of copperheads makes them nearly invisible this time of year amongst fallen leaves. The North Carolina coast is the perfect habitat for many venomous snakes such as canebrakes, diamondback rattlers, moccasins, and coral snakes. The North Carolina mountains is a great environment for both timber and diamondback rattlers, as well as copperheads. Durham, situated between the uplands and the coastal plains in a geomorphic area defined as a fall line, has only one species of venomous snake… the copperhead. While it may be the only pit viper in the area, there are a lot of them, so it’s not unusual to come across them… you need to be extra vigilant this time of year.
Once upon a time, I lived on a farm not far away in Mebane. A brilliant maple had already shed a blanket of colorful leaves across the yard one beautiful fall day. I admired that as I inspected my grill… it would be used later that day for dinner with friends. As I turned to go back to the cabin for cleaning supplies, I heard more than saw movement near my feet… it was one of the biggest copperheads I’d ever seen in the wild. It was beautiful and blended easily with the fallen leaves. Under normal circumstances, I’d have just attempted to chase it off to the fields where it could be happy chasing the myriad of mice there… that would make me happy, too, as I had worse incidents with mice than I had with snakes. With so many places to hide, including beneath the leaves, however, I thought it better to dispatch this rascal than for it to be a problem for my guests. I eased around it and went for my rifle. As I’d figured, it wasn’t where I left it when I returned. I scanned for it and moved carefully toward the tree. I must have stood in the last spot for ten minutes before I finally saw it raised up out of the leaves not more than eight feet from me, watching my every move… again, I believe it was the slight movement of its head rather than the shape that caught my eye. I knew what I was looking for, yet it was so difficult to see in the leaves. That made me realize that even your utmost attentiveness may not be enough, so walk a clear path in the woods and wear better footgear than sandals and flipflops. Heat-seeking pit vipers would easily target that.
For those of you who wonder about my fascination of creatures that my mother so feared, here’s how that happened: the first movie I remember seeing was Tarzan's Desert Mystery, starring Johnny Weissmuller as Tarzan. It was a classic black & white movie, but that didn't matter, as our brand-new TV back in that day was black & white too. That was around 1960, and it made an impression on the five-year-old me. I WAS Tarzan! In that movie, Jane is away, doing her part as a nurse in the war effort, while Tarzan and Boy do their part in retrieving rare medicinal herbs for the Allies, but their efforts are hindered by the strange flora and fauna of the mysterious desert, two such creatures something totally new to me... dinosaurs! Or a reasonable facsimile for back in the day. They were actually an iguana and a monitor lizard (dressed in "dinosaur" movie makeup), shot closeup while tussling with each other to look like big monsters on the silver screens of 1943. As is the way of the military, we moved around a lot, and shortly thereafter we lived in a place in California with a canal nearby... with pilings... where iguanas sunned themselves... and I was going have myself a dinosaur. For some reason, I was pulling my baby brother along with me in a little red wagon, perhaps to throw my mother off as to my true intentions... to sneak up on a huge snoozing lizard and wrestle it to submission. I did exactly that, though it turns out they're quite alert even when they appear not to be... after a bit of struggle, I securely snugged one up under my arm with a grip on its throat to keep it from biting me, and then made my way back home with my brother in tow. My mom opened the door for me as I kicked it… I was busy with a huge snapping lizard in one hand and holding onto my brother with the other hand.
What I remember most after that was my mom's face contorting to accommodate the hair-raising scream she loosed on me... and then she slammed the door on me. I don't know what my brother thought about that, but his hair hasn't been the same since. I was a little older and more used to such situations. Even so, I couldn’t understand what the big deal was that caused such a reaction. She had apparently called my dad with concern to an emergency at home... he showed up shortly afterward. In ways that truly good dads do, he explained reality to me without shooting my youthful enthusiasm down in flames... I could either live with the iguana, that would never love me, or with my momma who fed and cared for me... but, as she had a fear of reptiles, I couldn't live with both... and then he added that she needed me to keep such critters away. I've always been a sucker for those in need... what else could I do? Even Tarzan kept those pesky lions and crocodiles at bay. While Tarzan is a fictional character, the impression I had was that he didn’t fear animals. Rather, he realized that this is their world, too, and he respected and understood them. About eleven years later, I met Johnny Weissmuller, and a very old and blind Cheetah (the chimpanzee), in Titusville, Florida. I told him that he had gotten me into trouble... he laughed.
By the way, are you experiencing problems with the Flickr map? It seems to be fascinated with the All Star Mobile Home Park, as this isn't the first time it's made note of it. This was taken at Yates Mill Park in Raleigh. I know. I was there.