Tag Archives: snake

Oribi Mom: Buzzing Into the Newer New Normal

11th March 2023 Heather

“The summer is almost over and all these creatures will be gone for another season.”

Picture from PexelsMarch 11, 2023

It’s March again. And the ants, hornets, and wasps are in a tizz. I think if I sat in my favourite porch chair long enough, these army ants would probably carry me off into their city beneath the steps.

I’m not sure about how much research has gone into an ant’s sense of smell, but it must be incredible. One dropped piece of litchi skin under the kids table is enough to alert the whole lot of them to the feast. They march across the porch, hundreds of big black ants with reddish heads. They nip, too.

Maybe that’s why the geckos don’t pay any attention to them as they search every inch of the concrete. Or, maybe the geckos are too busy keeping out of the way of the huge female Western Natal green snake that comes to my front door on most hot afternoons. They love eating skinks, but thankfully, they’re not interested in toes.

It’s a Dog-Eat-Dog Sort of World But Snakes Don’t Eat Hornets

I do wish the snakes would eat the hornets, though. Those little brown ones with yellow stripes are so cheeky. Oribi Dad has had a couple of occasions where he’s been walking innocently past something and received several stings on the head for his troubles. And boy, does it burn.

The wasps are a little less of a problem, but they get right up in your face whenever they feel like it. You can be quietly typing away one minute and furiously swatting away at a buzzing enemy the next.

The high-pitched sound they make while they’re making their mud nests is the most annoying thing to hear. It signals that the housekeeper (me) is going to have to locate the sound, uncover the nest’s hiding place, and knock it down before it gets too big.

The black and yellow wasps love the curtain creases. The huge purple or black ones love the highest places on the lounge wall. And the mud doesn’t just fall off either. It needs scrubbing, scraping, and a lot of patience to erase all traces. If you let them get too far ahead, you also get the pleasure of knocking down a nest filled with poor paralyzed spiders – one in each compartment for a wasp baby to eat!

Well, it won’t be hot forever. The summer is almost over. All these creatures will be gone for another season. For us, the year is just getting going. There’s so much to look forward to now that the calendar is out of its COVID hibernation.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Escaping the Black Death To Die Another Day

28th June 2022 Heather

Oribi Mom: Escaping the Black Death To Die Another Day

Black Mamba found in chicken coop.

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

June 28, 2022

Well, it has happened. After five years of peace, we are now in the club of locals who have had a close encounter with a big black mamba. It was in our chicken coop this afternoon, and we didn’t see it.

The two-year-old and four-year-old asked to feed the chickens as they do each day. Their dad gave them each a cup of feed to put into the bowl. The bigger one was behind his brother and happened to look up as they walked to the entrance. Thankfully, he saw a large snake curled up in the corner of the enclosure and held his little brother back without thinking about why.

He called his dad with a casual “Snake, Dad.” Dad walked to the cage to have a look, but instead of seeing the usual Herald, egg eater or green snakes that are often around, he saw a very large, still relaxed black mamba! It’s like looking death right in the face and wondering whether you’ve stepped too close to change your mind.

He scooped up our tiny boys and ran to deposit them safely into my care. He went back to handle things with a fast-responding neighbour and too much adrenaline. I stripped my sons down to their undies to check for marks, a mother’s worst nightmare to be sure. They protested loudly but seemed intact and free of death-inducing puncture marks.

All they needed was a hug, a wet wipe bath, and some juice and popcorn chips to calm down from their big fright. Fortunately but terrifyingly, the snake was gone when dad went back to look for it. Hopefully, it is somewhere far, far away.

Where Was the Black Mamba Before This?

Earlier that morning I had taken a long walk around the farm. In five kilometres, I had seen a handful of colourful birds, a tractor, and a lizard. Was the mamba near my gate the whole time? Probably.

At 29 weeks pregnant, I could probably still run faster than I ever have before if I saw that thing next to me. The experts say that even big snakes like this specimen have a first instinct to get away. But, my two little boys were directly in front of its easiest escape route, well within the recommended five-metre distance you should be away from any mamba you happen to see in the wild.

God’s angels live here, too. So, we are alive for another day in Oribi Gorge. And, very grateful.

Published here.

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Oribi Mom: More of a Garden and Fewer Snakes

2nd May 2022 Heather

“As I did, I saw the slender scaled body with its classic rhombic kaleidoscope.”

CJ at 18 months in Oribi Mom’s trusty gumboots.

May 2, 2022

It’s been over 18 months since I was bitten by a night adder in our garden. My baby was strapped to my chest, asleep, as I admired the snake lily just pushing up its first glossy leaves from a bare patch of soil. My toddler was standing next to me, chatting away about something that Bob the Builder had done.

I moved my foot and felt a sharp prick that was sore enough to make me jump. I lifted my foot to peer round the side of my baby in the carrier. As I did, I saw the slender scaled body with its classic rhombic kaleidoscope. An indignant adder slithered into the nearby groundcover as it puffed up and down to show its disapproval at being stepped on.

I couldn’t believe it.

But the hole just above my ankle proved that takkies are useless against snakes, even smallish ones.

One Year On and No More Bites

Rhombic night adder, also known as causus rhombeatus. Photo for illustration purposes only. (Wikipedia)

So much has changed, but I still stood in front of this year’s blooms in wonder. As I looked at the bloom in that very spot a year later, I could hear my now one-year-old and his brother playing happily somewhere in the same garden.

The snake lily had sprung its first ever flower, the magnificent paint brush that comes up a few weeks before any leaves start to appear. It was exquisite. The tree it was underneath was finally tall enough for me to stand under. Our home was now a three-room farmhouse instead of the one-room cottage it had been just the year before.

In a way it feels like I’ve run a marathon in that time of transition.

Keep Going – Just One Day at a Time

A slow race to escape a coronavirus. A sprint to ration food as insane riots shut down all safe access to town. A slog uphill through load shedding and another year of cancelled birthday parties. It’s been like holding up an elephant while interval training through a growing sense of isolation.

If there was ever a doubt that digital connections aren’t enough, the pandemic has been living proof. We need face-to-face school, church, and friends. We need someone to call when pain sinks its teeth into our vulnerable moments. It is almost time now to move on.

Who do you call on? Neighbours? Family? God?

There will always be night adders in the garden, but we don’t have to let them take us by surprise. Oh, and we can choose to wear gum boots the next time.

Published here.