The June-pictures and Cottage-Life threads intersect in a photograph of a stiffly-serpentine beast that appeared on our beach. With a true story about a real serpent.
OK, I confess to finding and placing the little stone representing the critter’s eye.
Boys and Beasts · One time last summer, our son invited a friend over for a day of Cottage Life. They vanished into the woods, as is entirely proper for children of that age. I was under the cottage considering a recalcitrant water heater when I heard their voices, shrilly excited, approaching rapidly. Then Lauren’s, cool but firm: “That’s nice; now take it outside, boys.”
A few minutes later, a frightened shriek from not too far away, and the boys’ chatter returning to the cottage, faster this time. My son saying in a practical tone of voice: “If it was poisonous, you’ll die in about an hour.”
It seems they’d caught some poor little garter snake and, after showing it off to Lauren, his friend did something that provoked it to turn around and bite him — well, gum him, they have no teeth to speak of — hard enough to make him let go. His skin wasn’t even broken, and once they realized our sympathies were with the snake, the boys went back to the woods.