On the Way Home from Tuesday Night Yoga Practice at William Penn House (330 million gods var.)

I have not picked up a snake since junior high when I was old enough to begin working and the days playing in streams and ponds pretty much came to an end. It’s not something one forgets. And today, there was a black rat snake in the garden (Note: they are harmless and eat small rodents.)

By the time I noticed what was going on, it he snake was completely terrified from having been pulled out from under some heavy farm equipment with a rake. The goal was to bring it to the woods behind the garden, but first to make sure it did not get caught in the machinery.

I invited myself into the fray, gently and securely held the snake about an inch below its head, invited its release from below the rake, and then gave it my other arm for it to wrap around, and it hugged me around my back and to the top of the arm that was holding its head.

Someone else opened the garden gate and I went into the trees and released it into the underbrush. I doubt it helped that I talked softly to it, acknowledging its fear, and apologizing for dislocating it.

It felt like an honor to have this short dance. The musky odor was not so nice; I also appreciated it as a very cool super power.