Oh, Oh, Ophidiophobia

Overcoming My Snake Phobia— One Summer at a Time

by Mimi Greenwood Knight

I LOVE A GOOD PROJECT. For Summer 2021 my mission—should I choose to accept it—was to overcome my irrational fear of snakes. The jury’s still out on how well I’ve done. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t petrified of snakes. I don’t mean I was afraid to be bitten by a snake or afraid of venomous snakes. That would be rational. I was afraid of a PICTURE of a snake. I was afraid of the IDEA of a snake. I can recall in detail every snake I’ve spotted on our property, in the past 30 years. And although I enjoy visiting the woods and river behind our house in winter, I rarely leave the yard during warmer months for fear of a close encounter of the snake kind.

Last year, I learned about foraging and the joy of finding edible plants I can harvest and eat, dehydrate, can, or pickle. It started with chanterelle mushrooms which quickly led to honey, oyster, wood ear, and amber jelly mushrooms. I gathered beautyberries and made jelly. I harvested thistle and make thistle pickles. (Say that five times fast.) I sprinkled golden rod in my salads. I made cough medicine from pine needles and tea from wild clover. Throughout the cold months, I couldn’t wait to leap out of bed each morning and venture into our woods to see what I could find. It was a magical time.

Then came spring. I didn’t want the foraging to end but what to do about my paralyzing snake fear? I consulted a friend of a friend who offered to take me “herping” (snake hunting). It was early March as we ventured into the woods and, every time he mentioned it might be too early to spot any snakes, relief washed over me. In truth, we didn’t find a single one but just being with someone who appreciates their purpose in the world began turning my opinion (ever so slightly). He said things like, “Every snake you see is just looking for something to eat or a place to shelter.” In my mind, they were there to terrorize me.

The common Garter snake.

He introduced me to a couple Facebook pages dedicated to snake identification. I joined both and though I had to brace myself, every time I logged onto Facebook, my education began. Every day, I saw photos of snakes and nine times out of ten they were identified as “harmless” and “beneficial”. The other members were accepting of me, even after I confessed my ophidiophobia. They encouraged me and directed me to resources such as a Louisiana snake ID chart for my office wall.

Then, came the infamous evening my son and I were in the vegetable garden, I moved a watering can, and found a plump little fellow curled against my raised beds and very aware of us. My son said, “Wow, Mom, you didn’t freak out.” I did not. Instead, I snapped a picture and posted it on the snake ID page. As fate would have it, it was a venomous Northern Cottonmouth (Agkistrodon Piscivorus). Members on the page offered to relocate it for me. But it was getting dark, and I didn’t relish the idea of leaving him in my garden overnight.

The venomous Northern Cottonmouth (Agkistrodon Piscivorus).

My son caught him in a scoop net, stashed him in an ice chest, and together we wheeled him a quarter mile from home and released him into the woods. I’ve gotten some flack about that from friends who think it should have been “Off with his head!” But my new snake buddies assured me all snakes serve a purpose. In fact, the venom of some of the world’s deadliest snakes is being used to treat cancer, high blood pressure, hypertension, chronic pain, and diabetes. And just because he was unlucky enough to seek shade in my garden shouldn’t mean an automatic death sentence. Should it?

Since then, I’ve encountered an Eastern Black Kingsnake (Lampropeltis Nigra)—perfectly harmless—in my compost bin and decided to live in harmony with him, as long as he cares to stay. Does my heart still race, when I lift the lid of my composter and anticipate a reunion with this gorgeous guy? You bet it does. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Have I ventured out into the deepest part of our woods in search of the chanterelles everyone’s boasting about on my Facebook mushroom pages? Not yet. But through knowledge and experience I’m less afraid of snakes this summer than I was last and hope to be savvier and less afraid next year. One day I hope to be as delighted to encounter a snake in the yard as I am to spot an egret or bunny. If nothing else, I at least want to learn to live and give snakes the liberty to live too.