A Glorious Copperhead Kind of Day

The late spring sun shown brightly and the woodlands were verdant with newly greened leaves. Crows cawed over head and a broad-winged hawk circled lazily. I was clambering over some sizable tumbled boulders. To my left was a roller coaster that, come sundown, would be zipping boisterous, screaming, throngs up and down inclines that I didn’t even want to imagine and around hairpin curves that I wanted to think about even less.

To my right the boulder field eased and the greenery encroached tightly. I had been told that here, amidst the very rocks I was now traversing, northern copperheads, Agkistrodon contortrix mokasen, denned, foraged, bred, and underwent their quiet lives unseen and unsuspected by the amusement park employees and attendees.

I wasn’t sure that I believed this, for although I knew the rocks to be home to garter snakes and black racers, I was one of the many who never had suspected the presence of a pit viper of any kind. And so far on this glorious spring day my total for snakes seen was zero.

I had made my way, slowly and searchingly, across the expanse of boulders and was about to carefully make the return. In preparation I stepped out into the woodland, and stood for a moment listening to the sounds of the wild. Birds on their spring migration were cheeping, chirping, and lisping overhead. I listened for a few minutes, then turned to begin my return.

Ahead of me, among hundreds of others, was a flat, foliage surrounded, sun-drenched, rock. And what was that spot of orange on it? I looked more closely. Neonate copperhead.

The tales were true, and this day would live forever in memory.

Author, photographer, and columnist Richard Bartlett is one of the most prolific writers on herpetological subjects in the 20th century. With hundreds of books and articles to their credit, Richard and his wife Pat have spent over four decades documenting reptiles both in the field and in captivity. For a list of their current titles, please visit their page in our bookstore.