Jeremy Sloan
14/365 – Penelope and Me
I’ve never understood the instinct to recoil from snakes, which, like birds (so quick and precise), seem to me to possess an astonishingly strange and therefore fascinating life force. To hold a snake and feel it wrapping with grace and strength around your fingers is to be close to a great power—one that is entirely out of proportion to its physical size.
A moving snake is spirit tightly vibrating, bones smoothly sliding, tongue swiftly testing the air for danger or pleasure. And though the ancients tell us that people and snakes have been foes since the beginning of time, I think—I do think—that for the sake of a corn snake and a little girl, the laws of friendship might just be rewritten.
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