We do not have a shortage of snakes.
In fact, Black Rat Snakes are often seen cruising our property--the fields, woods and outbuildings in this rural area providing plenty of small rodents to keep them well fed.
We appreciate them for the work they do.
And know full well how quickly we’d be overcome, were they not around.
In the summer months, the long black adults are the most obvious—hanging around the yard and hunting in the tall grasses. But with the arrival of fall, so does the next generation--the little Black Rat Snake hatchlings.
In years past, I’ve encountered them on the front lawn on a warm October afternoon, spreading out from what I guessed to have been their nest in the hollow sycamore. Through the crunchy dry leaves the small gray-striped bodies scurried, finding shelter in the woods beyond or beneath the flat rocks of my garden.
I’ve uncovered clutches of empty eggs in my compost pile several times, too, in November, as we cycle the rich brown dirt onto the garden, and prepare to fill it with newly fallen leaves. Dozens of leathery shells, dry and curled.
The small snakes, long gone.
So, today, when I stumbled upon 3 in the course of sweeping porches and gathering sticks from the lawn, back to that compost pile I went—and gingerly examined the contents.
Lifting the dry top crust gently, I found a loose, damp layer below. And lots and lots of eggs.
Seven nests in all, each with 17-20. All already hatched, but one with hatchlings still present. Snuggled together in the soft dark earth directly beneath it, wrapped in each others' gray-striped tails.
I do not see a shortage of snakes in our future.