Where the wild things shouldn't be

I love nature. Tamed. All nice and neat and in its place.

I like nature less when it intrudes. No, I don't mind the deer that stand in our yard here and there. They are lovely to behold. And I don't mind the array of lizards that cross our driveway and sun themselves on the the cedar siding of the house. And I especially don't mind the rabbits that hop through the yard.

I do, however, take issue with spiders and snakes. And last week we were ripe with both. I very nearly had a car accident caused by a rogue spider that made an appearance and climbed up the windshield while I was driving. Then, if that wasn't enough, there was a snake on Thursday night.

I hate snakes. The garter ones aren't so bad. The problem is that it can take a moment or two to distinguish what I'm dealing with and by then, the thing is dead. I'm more of a shoot first, ask questions later kind of girl when it comes to snakes.

So, we were sitting on the screen porch. You may recall that the screen porch is our little private sanctuary. We rid ourselves of the hot tub last summer in favor of a more functional room that we could entertain more people in. The result has been that we have a lovely room to share with friends. There are a few places that the screens aren't secured anymore. These are places that Rachel's rotten cat, Ninja, has discovered so that she can make a break for it and hide under the shed. And these are places that birds have discovered when it came time to nest for the season.

We have a lovely bird's nest behind the television and we would gain pleasure each day from seeing the mom and dad bird come in and feed the young, clean up after them, and even watched as the babies learned to fly around the safety and security of our screened in porch.

At least it felt safe and secure.

And I love the door way of the screened porch, right next to the television. It is the spot that Sam and I had our very first kiss. We still stand there and re-enact that moment from time to time. Because I can stand indoors a step up and he's so much taller than I am, it makes kissing perfect and easy.

Ah, but we won't be standing there so much anymore.

As we were talking Thursday about how tired we were and how we were ready to go to sleep, as we innocently planned our next day, a snake dropped down from the nest...with a baby bird in its mouth. Oh, and it wasn't just any kind of snake...it was a cottonmouth. They are pretty much highly poisonous.

Sam: What the heck is that?

me: Snake.

It was less than two feet from me and I automatically curled up in my chair. Sam vaulted over the snake into the kitchen and grabbed a chef's knife from the butcher block. He came in and started slicing away at the snake. Seriously, this is the only time I've wished for a ginsu knife. Soon the snake was dead and the baby bird had been put out of its misery, and we were researching snakes.

We weren't so sleepy anymore.

And my lovely screened porch, a place to relax and unwind, not so relaxing anymore. And it doesn't seem quite so safe. And my kissing spot has become the spot where the snake dropped.

I torture myself some with what ifs. What if we had been standing there? What if Bishop had happened upon the snake while going to the bathroom? What if we had been outside making a bonfire when we had crossed paths with the snake?

I'll recover from this. I'll get past my fear. My life won't feel so tainted eventually. It would just happen a lot faster if I knew that the wildlife would stay in the wilds.