Green beer and the tiger queen

 Happy St Patrick's Day folks!

 

Today, I climbed the mountain to the fire tower and got to the spot where a tiger snake lies basking every morning. It is always lying in the leaves against a massive wall of granite, just powering up with early sunlight. Every. Fucking.Day. Stretched out in the mornings, coiled in the afternoon, it is a resident who eyes me as I pass through ancient lace curtains.

'You can't see me, right? Look again!"

 

Despite my recent snake handling course, understanding the critters a bit better and a handy compression bandage in my backpack, I still stall at this point of the climb. If I had one of those watches, pretty sure I'd see my heart rate peaking out right about the moment I round the corner on the last bit of pathway before the stairs begin.

This morning, the tiger was nowhere to be seen. This was worrying, because I like to know where it is and not get taken by surprise. But it is St Patrick's Day after all.

Me: Hey, Happy Saint Patrick's Day! Let's get bent on green beer!

My snake mate: Yeah um. Maybe not today. 

Me: But it's so great. We'll do Irish dancing and ... 

My snake mate: yeah ... nah.

Me: Oh, oh man I'm so sorry. I forgot.

My snake mate: It's alright man. I love you right? But St Pats is never a good day for me. 

So today, we cautiously avoided each other, this human and this snake. Tonight I collected some gaiters from my Mum's place. Mum is all for preventative measures (super sensible!) and one of them, when I expressed my worries about this particular tiger snake, was "get some gaiters so you feel better about climbing the mountain."