What do you need to go on a snake hunt? A knife might come in handy, so take one. Take a hat, too, to keep the scorching April sun off your head. Wear boots, as an extra layer of protection against the sharp fangs of the snakes and vicious Texan thorns. But what about a gun?
Yes, you’ll need one. I chose a battered Mossberg 12 gauge pump. OK, it’s not a fancy-pants, Ivy League, boarding school, Illuminati elite, Country Club double, but so what? It gets the job done.
|Spot the Space Junk|
Now that you’re loaded for snake, set off and check out the serpentzone. I poked around in a pile of space junk that I knew a rattlesnake was fond of. How did I know? Because I saw it there the other day, with GWB. No luck. Next, peer down into a small ravine and gaze at the clear water of its creek. Tranquil, that’s for sure, but still no snake.
|So Where’s the Snake?|
Don’t give up, like a beaten army, scout along a treeline and observe various animal bones while looking for Indian artifacts, maybe there’ll be a snake. No, there wasn’t; there were plenty of wild flowers, most attractive, but still no snake. Perhaps the snakes will be at the Beach, I thought, after all, they love water. Especially Water Moccasins.
|The Beach. Watch out for Snakes|
Alright, go to the beach and look in wonder at the height of the water, chances are there’ll be a snake. They do, in fact, like to congregate in places like the Beach, so if you’re thinking of using this snake hunt as a guide, be careful when knocking about the shorelines of snaky tanks, I was. Regardless, the serpents were hiding, unlike the frogs which were in abundance.
I called it a day after the Beach and counted it a successful armed stroll through the Texan countryside. And there’s nothing wrong with that. At all.
As I write this serpentine wisdom, big lightning fills the eastern night sky like an artillery barrage, but it’s silent so far.