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Was the reaction
genetic? Or was
I taught this dread of
snakes?
The snake had consumed the young from a nest of Orchard Orioles. I could see the lumps in his body. The empty nest was a beautiful structure, skillfully woven of the blades of green grass that had turned yellow. One does not find the nest of an Orchard Oriole often.
I turned to see the handsome male, a splendid combination of rich chestnut and jet black; a very beautiful bird. His greenish yellow mate darted toward me and retreated to a safe perch.
Overcoming my initial fear, I tried to dislodge the snake that was at least three feet long. He refused to move. Too full of Orioles, I suppose. His glistening coils filled the bush and at least his last third was coiled around the nest.
I retreated instead and the birds resumed their scolding.
That morning, I learned there is more to berry-picking than being serenaded by birds. I had reacted in fear and followed an impulse to protect the birds from a predator. The oriole will re-nest, the snake will slowly digest his meal of orioles, and acres of berries will again ring with birdsong.
That is the way of the world.
Virginia naturalist John Trott may be reached at: PO. Box 59, Washington, Va., 22747.
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