When the Snakes Come Out, the Ozarks Are Finally Awake

I walked the lower trail yesterday morning and nearly stepped on a black rat snake stretched across the path like it owned the place. It did, of course. It’s been here longer than any of us.

There’s a moment every April when the land shifts from waiting to moving. The wildflowers have been at it for weeks now, but when the snakes start showing themselves, that’s when I know we’ve turned the corner for real. Cold-blooded creatures don’t lie about the season the way a warm spell can.

Why Conservation Centers Are Teaching About Snakes

This week, conservation centers across Missouri are hosting snake programs for families, and I love that. Too many kids grow up afraid of snakes because nobody ever taught them what they were actually looking at. A black rat snake like the one I met yesterday can grow to six feet, maybe seven, and it’s one of the best mousers you could ask for. Farmers around here knew that two hundred years ago. They’d find one in the barn and leave it alone because a rat snake in your corn crib was worth more than a barn cat.

Understanding Snake Behavior and Abilities

Here’s something most people don’t know: black rat snakes are constrictors, but they’re also climbers. They’ll go straight up a tree trunk to raid a bird’s nest, and they can flatten their bodies against bark so well you’d walk right past one without seeing it. If you’ve ever wondered why the mockingbirds in your yard go absolutely berserk for no apparent reason, look up. There’s probably a snake somewhere they don’t want you to miss.

The old-timers had a saying about snakes in April. They said when you see the first snake, count forty days and you’ll have your last frost. I’ve never tested it scientifically, but I’ve noticed it holds true more often than not. The land keeps its own calendar if you’re willing to read it.

A Nature Walk Activity for Families

For families doing school at home, this week is a gift. Take a nature walk and look for snake habitat: rock piles, old logs, sunny patches along creek banks. You don’t have to find a snake to learn something. Ask your kids what they notice about where snakes might want to be. Warm surfaces. Cover nearby. Access to water. Then have them sketch the habitat and label the features. That’s real observation work, the kind that teaches them to read a landscape the way people used to before we outsourced everything to screens.

Identifying Safe and Dangerous Snakes

If you do see a snake, keep your distance and watch. Note the pattern, the way it moves, whether it’s thick-bodied or slender. In Missouri, the thick-bodied snakes are the ones to be cautious around: copperheads, cottonmouths, timber rattlers. The slender ones are almost always harmless, and they’re doing work you’d thank them for if you knew how many mice they eat in a season.

I think about the women who settled this land, raising children in cabins with dirt floors and gaps in the walls. They knew which snakes to fear and which to leave alone, and they taught their children the same way the land taught them: by paying attention.

Experience the Ozarks Alive

We’ve got wildflowers blooming on every trail right now, and the snakes are waking up to patrol them. If you want to see the Ozarks the way it actually works, not prettied up but alive, this is the week to come walk it with us. Bring the kids. Teach them to look twice at a fallen log. That’s how rootedness starts, one small observation at a time.