Okay, I live in the sticks with cats and dogs and a horse and assorted wildlife. Have done so since 1972 when my folks thought juvie hall was our next step as developing pranksters in a subdivision that bordered Lambert Field in StL. So after decades of curious finds you would think I would know not to dig in a pile of leaves without poking or kicking abit.
Apparantly, being 40-something means my brain was elsewhere. Hubby was using the log splitter to split the last of a load of wood and I was helping-with one arm. The wood had been stacked large in one pile and ready-to-go in another. Then my college-age nephews came over one day and helped by piliing it all in one pile. So to get to the needs splitting stuff, I had to move the little stuff and re-stack.
Anyway, near the end of the mixed pile were some freshly fallen and windblown leaves. As I worked, I just shuffled my feet and figured anything living there would get the hint and move. Ha! I reached down to pick up a stick and fling it away. No problem. Then I looked down and dang if there wasn't another one! So I picked it up, and it moved and then I moved very quickly-while not releasing the "stick."
My brain said "oh a blacksnake." My reflexes said "throw that sucker." My hand said "not happening just yet." So I did a version of a Madonna dance waving the snake and knocking wood everywhere. Then, finally, I let the snake fly. After a post-snake-grab jig, I carried a piece of wood to hubby.
I asked if he saw the snake. He said he hadn't, but he thought I had my MP3 player on and the dance I did was pretty weird. I dropped the wood near the splitter and retreated to watching him work.
Just another day in paradise.