Big SnakesGypsy sniffed the air and growled a low cautious growl.
Horace put his hand on my shoulder, heavy enough to slow me, and pointed inland.
Rising slowly behind the bushes lining the shore was a huge, really huge, bright red snake’s head with a matching red flickering tongue. And somewhere behind that snake head was the sound of a rattle.
I spoke first, “It’s a rattlesnake. A giant red rattlesnake?”
The snake withdrew its tongue and said, “Good gosh no! That rattling sound is my fourth wife practicing with maracas.” His head rotated around to face inland. “Honey, please stop your practicing. We have guests.” The snake had an average midwestern sounding man’s voice, it didn’t sound snake-like at all.
Gypsy growled softly, then looked up at me and said, “I don’t trust snakes.”
