I am walking through one of the buildings at the Toledo Zoo. It was a rather fascinating building, full of snakes.
All of a sudden…
SCREAM!
The scream pierced through the room and even the building. Everyone heard it. Everyone stopped to see what the matter was. Everyone was looking at us.
It was a moment of confusion for me. Who screamed? Was it me? It could have been me; after all, we were in a building displaying many snakes, and if you know me, a scream is an appropriate sound I would make.
There is a really good reason why I thought I could have been the one screaming. Years ago, in my youth, so it was MANY years ago, I felt a bug crawling up my shirt. We were busy building our family home, large equipment running, and the sound of hammers, saws and all kinds of construction noises. There was a scream. I heard it. I had no idea where it came from until everyone stopped and looked at me. I then slowly realized that I was the screamer and was stung by a bee. So, when I was in Toledo Zoo’s Science Museum, I considered that I had screamed.
But no one was looking at me. Everyone, instead, was staring at Charlene. She had let out a huge scream upon seeing a snake. Never before had she screamed when sighting a snake; that is my job. Plus, neither of us is ever concerned when these creatures are locked away behind glass. The snake that startled my wife was swimming freely in a large, open-topped fish tank.
Seeing a snake swimming with all of its snakiness was intense but fascinating. This water snake was at home in the tank. It’s body ungulated and coiled in the water and moved with considerable speed as it circled the round tank. It was something neither one of us had seen before and was unexpected. I was pretty intrigued. I approached the tank, taking a sizeable mental calculation on the snake’s size and the glass’s height to reassure me that escape was impossible. Charlene was still catching her breath and even apologizing for the scream when I got as close to the glass as possible to snap a few pictures.
For both of us, this was the first time we had seen a water snake, either wild or captured. Charlene would later allow a water snake to lick her when we visited the Royal Botanical Garden’s Frog Show a few winters ago. And then there was our first-ever wild encounter with a water snake at The Holden Arboretum.
I do not like snakes. I fully understand that my fear of these unwanted creatures has a foundationless reason, but seeing a snake in the wild can ruin a perfectly good day.
We would arrive early at the Holden Arboretum. Our reciprocal membership through the American Horticultural Society gave us free access, and we were there to see the various Lego displays scattered throughout the park. There was a large snake creation that was well done, and because my mother doesn’t like snakes as much as I do, I snapped a picture of it and sent it to her to view.
We continued to look for more Lego works and spotted a large butterfly. Nice. I went to get a picture while Charlene carried on to a spot by the pond. I would return to her when she looked at me with concern and was very gracious in her approach and manner of voice.
“I do not want you to freak out, but there is something here you are not going to want to see.” She said it perfectly. Usually, I flinch at the stirring of the grass, the rustle of a leaf, or when Charlene points to something, and I begin to assume the worst.
I was not freaking out at all this time. My wife was very considerate of my emotions. Still, I knew exactly what she was referencing. My gaze moved slowly to the ground. I saw it. It was the largest snake we had ever encountered in all of our hikes and adventures.
Oddly, I did not scream.
Because it was in the water, it was like looking at it in an aquarium. I took my time watching it swim away, knowing full well that if it turned around and came towards me, I would bolt out of there as fast as possible. There is a story my parents like to retell over and over again about how I covered the entire distance of our yard in three steps after seeing a snake. I remember that event and was impressed with how fast I could move and how long my stride could be when I was sufficiently motivated.
It was an engaging experience to see a water snake in its natural environment doing nothing more and being nothing more than a snake. I like those moments when I can observe something, even snakes, without the huge heart-pounding sensation and adrenaline-induced sweat. It was one of those rare encounters where a snake did not ruin a perfectly good day.
For the first time at the Toledo Zoo, Charlene experienced what I feel each time I see a snake. She laughed about it immediately after the scream. We all laughed, even the others who saw and heard the whole thing.
- The vast majority of snakes will leave you alone and will do all that they can to avoid you. I know this, yet I freak out at each opportunity.
- Never handle a snake. Handling snakes can cause enormous stress and strain; some snakes have been known to die from human encounters.
- Snakes are deaf, so they will not hear your screams.
- Toledo Zoo has the largest collection of snakes we have seen. Although the zoo appears small, plan on four or five hours to view it all.
- The Holden Arboretum is affiliated with the American Horticultural Society. Consider purchasing a membership to re-enter your favourite location and explore more when you are out touring.
- The location of the places mentioned in this article can be found on my All The Places We Have Been To map.
