The Hiss in the Garden

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The kind of lazy afternoon made everything in the English countryside look like a postcard. Bees dozed over lavender, and sunlight spilled through the hedges like golden syrup. Two-year-old Jamie Whitcomb toddled barefoot across the garden path, babbling to himself and dragging a slightly soggy teddy bear behind him. His mother, Grace, watched from the kitchen window, wiping her hands on a tea towel as she kept half an eye on her boy and the other on a simmering pot of stew.

 

Jamie had recently discovered the joy of “digging.” He preferred to use his bare hands, dirt and all, not with a shovel. He made a beeline for the old log pile near the back fence, a spot usually left alone due to the occasional sighting of mice or beetles. Something moved as he bent down and pried up a flat stone with impressive determination.

 

Not a bug. Not a mouse. It was smooth, silent, and longer than Jamie was tall.

 

A Curious Toddler and a Chilling Surprise

The grass snake lifted its head, tongue flickering, watching the tiny human with mild curiosity. Jamie, in the pure innocence only a toddler can muster, reached out with one chubby hand and giggled.

 

Luckily, Grace glanced out at that exact moment.

 

She sprinted through the back door, her heart pounding like a drum. Now crouched beside the reptile-like they were old friends, Jamie looked up and squealed, “Wiggly!”

 

Grace swept him up in one motion, startling the snake, which slithered swiftly into the underbrush without protest. It hadn’t hissed. It hadn’t bitten. It hadn’t moved aggressively at all. In fact, it almost seemed like it had been sunbathing and was just as surprised as the humans.

 

Later, the local wildlife officer confirmed it was a harmless native grass snake, common in rural gardens and more interested in frogs than people. Jamie, of course, was unfazed. He asked for the “wiggly” every day after, convinced he’d made a new friend. Grace, on the other hand, now checks the garden like a royal guard every time her son sets foot outside.

 

And somewhere under the ferns, the snake probably tells its own version of the story: the day it met the tiny human who smelled like biscuits and dirt.

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