In Search of Colour - Chapter 3 - The Day of the Snake

Many of us have phobias. Whilst not overly happy about heights (I can generally force myself to the edge of things and I do love to fly and be in control of an aircraft), the one thing I cannot abide are snakes.

Borne out of my fathers adage “the only good snake is a dead snake”, aided by the slithering of a brown snake between my legs and out from the out house at home (a much nastier occurrence than the Redback on the Toilet Seat – thankyou Slim Newton for that memory of the drop toilets of my youth) and various other encounters, only added to the fear.

So when I walk past a Diamond Python nesting in our lime tree, resting above the water soaked ground, the first thought after the fight and flight has subsided is to eradicate the reptile from our garden. Now snakes tend to be protected animals and at the end of the day, when my heart stopped pounding and I realised the monster in the lime tree was not one of those eight  of the ten most venomous snakes in the world that Australia boasts, its time to consult with the neighbours and come up with a plan.

Living in a bushland setting, there have been times when snakes (the more dangerous ones) are encountered. But there are “wranglers” living here and my next door neighbour is quickly onto a “collector”. Well, he is as much a collector as he loves pythons and manages to feed several that live in the bush behind his home. 

Once summoned he is quickly on the job, prizing the snake attempting to ever so delicately extract it from the tree, something the nasty end of a 12 gauge shotgun would have done in my youth. My dad bought my mother a snake gun when they were first married and setting up home on the farm at Mt Buffalo near Rye Park NSW. This bored out .303 calibre turned .410 calibre shotgun in the hands of my mother was the death sentence to any snake which ventured into our yard attempting to set up camp under our house. That gun lived by the back door, and we knew we were never allowed to touch it because to do so would almost certainly invoke Murphys Law and we would all be in danger with no means of protection.

Back to the snake “at hand” and it takes evasive action and ducks into next door and we all brave souls race around the fence and continue the corralling to the joy of my neighbour and her young children. They had been having issues with mice and native rats several weeks ago, even called in an expert who managed to catch some native marsupials and relocate them. But lately she had noticed a quick decline in rodent numbers – initially put down to the work of the expert, but clearly the snake was also doing its “job”.

Eventually the snake is bagged and is off to its new home, down the street aways. 

I have friends who have or had pythons as pets. I don’t see the point. One I know my mate Peter possessed had a nasty demeanour and would often bite the hand that fed it. No snakes are not for me.

My invaded neighbour and I are very happy the snake now has a new “home”. Heats pounding back at normal levels, life returns to normal.