A slithering discernment

Heck, who am I kidding? Our country seems to be experiencing a less-than-sanguine political environment. (You’ve noticed, per chance?) I’m seriously pining to escape.

Sigh.

Oh, ok, getting real (what a bummer.) A close-to-home safe harbor from my (hourly) political ruminations is the wildlife around me. Those critters are nature’s non-voting residents, unaware of, and immune to, our human political chaos (mostly.) Critters don’t follow the 24/7 news cycle, only the dictates of Mother Nature. (Is there something I might learn from this?)

Don’t become furious with me, folks. Mother Earth’s wildlife contingent is also inclusive of poisonous slitherers, such as our North Carolina copperheads. A recent, out of season, copperhead sighting, rattled me. I mean, how could it not? “Copperhead, ahoy! Eeeek!”

The source of my terror and fascination was the undulating and poisonous snake making its way, slowly, across the road. A car was heading straight for it. I don’t know, is there a particular protocol for stopping oncoming drivers from running over slowly moving copperheads? Critters that slither are children of nature, too.

Sadly, no instantaneous guidelines for copperhead car evasion popped into my head. This copperhead and I were on our own. Generally, I would characterize my psychological makeup as sane and grounded (but you still might wish to inquire the opinion of others who know me.) However, during those milliseconds of my “save the copperhead” crisis, it didn’t occur to me that my own wildly gesticulating behavior (“See that snake! See that snake!”) might be perceived as a threat to the oncoming car’s driver.

“Oh my heavens, who is this crazy woman? I’m speeding right past her!”

Not what transpired, thank heavens!

The car’s driver was someone whose face I knew from our neighborhood and whose yard has held political signs of which I was none too fond. However, in the throes of this life and death slitherer crisis, my politics took a sabbatical. The driver stopped. Hallelujah! Voicing his boyhood appreciation for snakes, the driver got out of the car and went treasure-hunting for a long stick. Found one. This neighborhood snake whisperer spent several minutes gently coaxing the critter off the road, with not a whit of copperhead backtalk! Such a relief.

What can I say? I felt like hugging him, but since we had only a distant acquaintance, I happily shook his hand instead. Our political differences? Forget the damn political divisions! Caring is caring, regardless of our respective political stripes.

Slitherer Whisperers, Unite!