Another perfect Spring day in the Chilterns and my thoughts, as
always at this time of year, turn to snakes.
No, I'm not being Freudian. I'm far too old and long-married for
any of that sap-rising nonsense. I mean genuine, long and thin,
honest-to-goodness wrigglers. They'll be waking up, emerging
from woodpiles, shedding skins, lurking in the undergrowth. It's a
thrilling time of year.
We live in a particularly snakey village here, something to do
with chalk downland and lots of water, and snake stories abound:
lady gardener discovering clutch of snake eggs in her compost bin;
young mother terrorized by adder in back garden; dead snake in
teenager's PE kit; grass snake slithering up the high street one
sunny afternoon.
My own snake story is that I once had a small, black, hissy
thing in my dining room but that was when I lived in Reading. I
haven't seen a live one since we've been here and I spend the
spring and summer in a state of permanent expectation. I'm
cautious, obviously, adders can do a lot of damage to children and
dogs, but mainly I'm hugely excited at the thought of them being
out there again.
So, it was with great pleasure the other day, that I discovered
this picture on my Facebook-friend Robert Strackland's page as it
reminded me of researching and writing Awakening three
years ago.
At the start of the book, wildlife vet Clara Benning is called
to a neighbour's house in the small hours. She finds it overrun
with grass snakes. A freaky trick of nature or a malicious
practical joke? All she knows is that the snakes are harmless and
she starts to gather them up.
She will never know what draws her attention to the small
creature curled up in a corner of a child's bedroom, but when she
sees it properly she knows the situation she thought she was
managing has just spiraled out of everyone's control. The snake is
no harmless British grass snake, it is one of the deadliest in the
world. The taipan.
Now just look at it. I defy anyone, even the most hardened snake
phobic, not to admire this slender, graceful, exquisitely coloured
creature.
I'm going to meet a real live one soon. The legendary Mark
O'Shea, whose fabulous book, Venomous Snakes of the World, was an
important reference work for me when I was writing, has invited me
and the family up to meet him (and his taipan) at the West Midlands
Safari Park where he is honorary curator of reptiles.
The taipan is not on public view at the moment but Mark has
offered me a private viewing. (Oh, stop it, you lot. Mr B and small
child are coming too.) We'll have to stand behind protective glass
(fine by me, those things are seriously lethal) while Mark brings
the taipan out. We'll be sure to take lots of pictures.
Protective glass not withstanding, it will be very reminiscent
of the scene in Awakening where celebrity herpetologist
Sean North (not based on Mark, in spite of what his fans around the
world are claiming) examines Clara's new find and confirms that it
is, indeed, one of the three deadliest snakes in the world.
"In daylight, and in safe hands that weren't mine, the snake was
beautiful. He gleamed a colour too dark to be silver, too bright to
be gunmetal, and the beaten copper stripe shone along his full
length. His eyes were like living topaz."
'It's a taipan alright,' said North.
Oh, I can't wait.