At last news has arrived to divert my anxiety-ridden mind from the COVID pandemic, the war in Ukraine, climate change, political polarization, homelessness, rising inflation, mass murders, drug addiction, alcohol abuse and the guy next to me in the grocery checkout line with a .357 Magnum handgun floating loosely in the band of his sweatpants.
Poisonous copperhead snakes are moving north and may want to live in my backyard, according to an article in The Washington Post.
Of course, Indiana has had four varieties of poisonous snakes for as long as I have had my reptile phobia — a psychological illness which stretches back 77 years as of my birthday last month.
The good news is I do not live anywhere within casual striking distance of two of the varieties — the massasauga rattlesnake, which makes its home in swampy areas of northern Indiana, and the cottonmouth water moccasin, which wiggles around in the streams of far southeastern Indiana near the Ohio state line.
Timber rattlesnakes and northern copperheads, however, do live in Brown County, Monroe County and parts of northern Jackson County and some of each have been known to vacation occasionally in Bartholomew County.
The timber rattlers are few. They are, in fact, an endangered species in Indiana. (I assume when one bites me, I will be arrested if I bite it back and it dies.)
The copperheads are another matter. They not only are growing in population but, according to the herpetologists (snake experts) at the University of Virginia, are being joined in Indiana and other parts of the upper Midwest by Southern and Eastern copperheads.
Unlike their introverted rattlesnake cousins, they are not at all shy and do not hide out in the deep forest. The Virginia snake-scholars say copperheads enjoy urban and suburban life, curled up in the well-tended landscaping near neatly trimmed lawns like — uh, uh, my backyard.
These herpetologists point out the snakes have been slithering north slowly for years as the climate in places like my backyard has become warmer and wetter.
While I suppose I should be somewhat proud that northerners, southerners and easterners can live in harmony, I just don’t think we need any more snakes in Indiana — particularly in Bartholomew County. (Every two years voters send a few of them to Congress and to the Indiana General Assembly, but that does little to lessen my fears.)
According to a recent graphic in The Washington Post, 53 copperheads have been captured in urban and suburban areas of Northern Virginia and the District of Columbia over the past 18 months.
Ten were found in shrubs and gardens, nine in yards, six near swimming pools, five in woodpiles, five on walkways and — so on down the line — to one lone Copperhead located at a bus stop. (Hopefully, he or she was just headed for a congressional hearing to support thoughts and prayers as the answer to our legislative paralysis and was not trying to board a Greyhound for Indiana.)
I have no idea whether Copperheads currently live in my backyard and am afraid to look, but the thought of the possibility is a help in dealing with my general anxiety. If I can believe snakes in the grass are America’s worst problem, I find some moments of relative calm.
Of course, having hired my friend Sharon to mow my lawn doesn’t hurt.
