Stories are signs.
Pay attention.
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The other day, the lawn guy and I strolled through the yard. He’s a chatty one, always sharing local stories and gossip because I think it pleases him more to hear it than holds my interest. As long as he doesn’t weedwack the numerous wildflowers, I indulge him.
Yep. Heard about this guy who pulled up a real estate sign and got bit by a copperhead. Not once but twice. Messed him up real bad. Had to rush to the hospital.
Copperheads and rattlers are numerous where I live — especially when they come out to sun themselves. That’s why you won’t find me on trails in the woods during the warmer months. As much as I do my best to live in harmony with Nature, I definitely respect snakes — they’re beautiful creatures — but give them plenty of room, even the non-poisonous. Everything has a right to exist. Snakes and ticks are enough to dissuade me from deep hikes and I’ll wait for the cooler months for those types of strolls.
Often stories from the most unlikely of sources are a warning from . . .
Whomever. Pay attention.
When he told me this, I could’ve easily passed it off as an unfortunate occurrence and pushed it aside. Things happen in the country. Freaky things. Can’t prevent it.
Oh, but you can.
You don’t need a psychic. You need to pay attention to your world.
If you spend time in Nature or simply watch the ants who start to invade your kitchen, rather than immediately grab poison (I prefer Diatomaceous Earth, if necessary), you’ll see that ants have a singular purpose: protect the queen and feed the babies. Ants are so tuned in that they sense when I approach the sink and start to scramble. They don’t wait around, wondering what I’ll do. They know. Usually, it’s a few scouts who check out the region for food/sugar but I keep a clean kitchen and my food in glass jars or the fridge — so they eventually leave for greener pastures. Every year they arrive at the same time (baby season) and they leave once the powdery but harmless to humans Diatomacheous Earth scatters on the counter. I can almost hear the girls as they touch antennas: There’s that giant thing again and that white stuff is going to dry us up. Let’s amscray.
My subconscious mind stored away the snake story, even as my imaginative head was in the clouds.
A week later, I took a quick walk after dinner down a private road. Woodsy but wide and graded. I’ve walked this road numerous times in all seasons. Regardless of my comfort level on this road, I never wear headphones or stare at a phone while walking but prefer to be alert to my surroundings, especially as a woman.
It was a gorgeous night, the forest in bloom but a bit chilly so I had on yoga pants, long socks and my Merrell trail runners. I strolled, delighted and talking out loud, head filled with my new novel that is in draft stages. I talked to the trees, the flowers, exclaiming just how beautiful everything was, even in the drizzly rain.
You know where this is going, right?
A car passed. Someone I knew from town and I waved, surprised to see them at this time of night. Got to the end of the road, saw that they were parked and turned around; it was twilight and I headed back up, noting the natural spring by the side of the road.
What’s that pretty colored stick? I said, looking down.
Pretty stick curled up, reared back and opened its mouth. A copperhead, more than likely. Small, probably a baby that lay near to the middle of the road on a chilly, rainy night. Here I thought snakes weren’t fond of cold. I was wrong.
The mindclouds cleared and I instinctively jumped up, my right leg doing a two-step, side run, almost picturing the lunge, the bite and hoping it would strike my heel, rather than flesh.
It didn’t. I ran, grateful and thanking my angels for protecting me YET AGAIN for something that could’ve been disastrous on so many levels.
This verse from Genesis 3:15 has tossed around my mind ever since: He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel, though fortunately the copperhead was not crushed and my heel was not struck. Maybe I’ll use it in my novel.
It wasn’t just my angels and guides who saved me. I paid attention.