Why the Snake You Just Screamed At Might Be the Best Neighbor You’ve Got

I watched a black rat snake cross our gravel drive yesterday morning, and I’ll tell you what I told myself: slow down, Michele. That snake’s been doing pest control on this land longer than any of us have been paying taxes.

This time of year in the Ozarks, snakes are waking up and moving. The soil’s warm enough now that they’re active during daylight hours, hunting, sunning, looking for mates. And I know — I know — the first instinct for a lot of folks is to grab a hoe. But I want to tell you something that changed how I see every snake on this property.

Of the roughly fifty snake species in Missouri, only five are venomous. Five. That means the overwhelming majority of snakes you’ll encounter are not only harmless to you, they’re actively helpful. A single black rat snake can eat dozens of mice in a season. Timber rattlesnakes, the ones people fear most, actually prefer to avoid you entirely. They’ll sit coiled and still, hoping you walk right past without noticing. That’s not aggression. That’s a creature trying very hard not to have a confrontation.

The early settlers here knew this, even if they didn’t always articulate it the way we might now. They understood that a barn with snakes was a barn with fewer rats in the grain. They tolerated what they didn’t love because they could see the math working out in their favor.

I think about that a lot when I’m walking our trails. This land has been teaching people for ten thousand years, since the first humans moved through after the ice sheets pulled back. They watched. They learned what belonged and what it did. We’ve just gotten out of practice.

A Nature Exercise for Your Kids

Here’s something you can do with your kids this week that will change how they see snakes forever. Find a sunny spot near a rock pile, a brush pile, or the edge of a field. Sit quietly for fifteen or twenty minutes with a sketchbook. If you see a snake — any snake — sketch it before you identify it. Note the shape of the head. Is it narrow or broad? Count the pattern of scales if you can see them. Notice the body thickness, the way it moves. Then go home and use a Missouri field guide to figure out what you saw.

This isn’t just nature journaling. It’s STEM in the truest sense. Observation before conclusion. Data before reaction. Your kids are learning to look at something unfamiliar and ask questions instead of making assumptions. That’s a skill that’ll serve them well beyond any trail.

If you’re nearby and want a closer look, Powder Valley Conservation Nature Center is hosting an ambassador snake encounter this morning. Hands-on, safe, educational. It’s the kind of thing that turns fear into curiosity, and curiosity into respect.

We’ve got snake neighbors here on the preserve too. I’ve stopped apologizing for them. They’re part of what makes this land work the way it’s supposed to. When you book a stay at the farmhouse or walk our trails, you’re stepping into a place that still functions like an ecosystem, not a lawn.

That’s not always tidy. But it’s real. And I’d rather offer you something real than something comfortable that doesn’t teach you anything.

Next time you see a snake, give it three seconds before you react. Watch where it’s going. Consider what it’s doing for you. Then let it go on about its business.

You might find you’ve got more in common than you thought.