I like snakes.
they have a grace in simplicity. If one doesn't need legs, Legs become ugly.
I like the country where snakes live. Its not green soft and smooth. The Snakes I'm thinking of, live in dry hard country where nearly everything is spiny, or bites. or stings. One takes nothing for granted. One is not fed any reassuring falsehoods.
A rattlesnake seems honest to me, as honest as any creature, and far more honest than most folks.
When you see a rattling pit-viper, your gut knows long before your mind does, that you'd best have a care.
No doubts about it. No flowery promises from Don Cascabel. He is exactly how he appears to be. He doesn't promise you eternal love , but he also doesn't condemn your soul to an eternity of torment and fire if you neglect to eternally love him back , or if you are gay , or if you eat pork, or lust in your heart, or miss Mass.
Snake doesn't promise you everlasting life , but encountering snake reminds you that life can and will be curtailed at some sudden time.
See a snake. Be alive now
In the lore of North American indigenous peoples in arid lands, where water is life , snakes are tied to the bringing of rain. killing a snake is what causes drought. Snakes are venerated. Loved. Greeted respectfully and left unmolested.
The indigenous peoples of Mexico hail snakes as their creators, and saviors of mankind. (During the flood, snakes wove themselves together to form a raft for all the people.). Noah was a total no-show for those guys.
The hills surrounding Mexico's fertile valleys are huge creator snakes, yet sleeping.
The Huichol people of Northern Mexico know snakes as messengers.
Worthy messengers they are. Who can ignore a rattlesnake. He shows himself , he has your attention.
Last night I encountered a middling sized Crotalis viridis (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crotalus_viridis) seeking to warm itself on a road, just after sunset.
I nudged it gently with my foot to encourage it to remove itself from the dangerous pavement. Its head turned slowly towards me,but low , as if it seemed to take my measure. Very slowly and with as gentle a heart as I could muster, I reached down , way down, watching , very much watching the snakes' response. I put my index finger under its belly and felt it move over my skin. It was warm. There was no tension in its movements. I put my middle finger , and then my ring finger under the snake . I lifted about half an inch and scooted Don Cascabel toward the roadside with my fingers.
I've been vibrating pleasantly ever since. I don't know what the message was, but I think it was a good one.
Thank you snake. I hope we meet again.
Be careful of traffic. We don't need another drought.
Snakes dont have ears. They hear with their whole bodies.
