He tells the story often. The one where he was looking at a bird through binoculars when he felt something around his ankle. He looked down to find an Adder wrapped and writhing around his heavy leather boot. Dad had inadvertently stepped on the snake, but by good fortune, he had trapped the head so it couldn’t bite him. He describes a smooth sweeping Ronaldo-esque move, to flick the squirming serpent off his boot and into the long grass, where it slithered away. A heart-racing moment that would not easily be forgotten by snake or man, and a story that stuck in the mind of a young boy.

The Adder is Britain’s only land creature that can pack a significantly venomous punch. As a kid, I was always excited on the rare occasion that we would see one, but as it slithered into the tangled grass, I would shiver at the thought of all that venom being so close, but out of sight.

As an adult living in Singapore, my photography journey has me frequently encountering some of the planet’s most venomous snakes. During a visit to the UK, it felt like the time had come for me to try to photograph the mildly venomous snake from my past.

April in the south of England traditionally opens with whispers of spring that are quickly flushed away by torrents of chilled rain. The month brings just enough sunshine to stir the island’s reptiles from their long winter slumber. The Amphibians had already completed their journey to their watery breeding grounds by the end of March. Now it is the turn of the reptiles to surface from their underground chambers.

I had seen a couple of adders during a visit the previous summer. These were the first adders I had seen in years, measurable in decades. I only caught a brief glimpse before they slipped away into the undergrowth, but this was enough to give me a location. It was a cool morning when I arrived at the park. The morning sunshine was just enough to blunt the blade of the cold night, but not enough to lose the long sleeves. A Robin serenaded me as I trudged along the track. The indignant, diminutive Wren scolded me with an ear splitting tirade. I flipped over a piece of plywood and a square of bitumen. Both glistened with diamond dew on the top and silvery slug trails on the underside. I walked on and flipped another square of bitumen.

As the bitumen peeled back it revealed four shiny reptilian ropes. A spaghetti of Slow worms coiled under one small piece of bitumen. It had been years since I had seen this staple of my childhood. Not wanting to disturb the loops of legless lizards, I carefully replaced the bitumen and set off along the track. A Viviparous lizard was soaking up a sunbeam on a piece of wood as it watched me walk by. My second reptile species of the morning was a good omen, but my target was the elusive Adder.

I followed a sandy, east-facing sandy bank. This bank trapped the first shards of morning sun. I hoped to find a snake that was active enough to be seeking the warmth of the morning sun but still cool enough to let me get close for a photograph.

My eyes were scanning the rocks, the sand, and the dry vegetation when they settled on a strangely marked coil that was woven through the dead grass. There was no mistaking the zig-zag pattern; I had found my Adder!

From a young age countryside kids were taught that the zig-zag pattern on the Adder’s back means venom and to leave well alone. I was struck by how this iconic pattern melted into the dry grass and bracken under the mottled morning sunlight.

I didn’t have a clear view of the snake, but ever so slowly, I leaned forward and made a shot from above. I reached for my phone to take a video. I couldn’t see the eye of this large fat female Adder, but she must have noticed my snail-slow movement. Despite being armed with venom the Adder is an extremely shy snake. Most people will never see an Adder in their life, as the snake will always slip noiselessly into the undergrowth long before the human eye has filtered it from the vegetation. I watched her glide smoothly out of sight.

I walked on in the hope of finding more Adders and hopefully one that I could photograph. After a fruitless walk, I returned to the spot where I had seen the female. Sure enough, she was coiled in the same spot. I knelt painfully on the gravel speckled track, hopeful of getting a better view. As my eyes wandered along the grassy bank they settled on a fiery orb a few meters away. It was the dragon eye of another large female adder looking back at me.

This was an amazing outcome! Two plump female Adders lying in coils just in front of me. The second female’s zig-zags were more cinnamon than the chocolate markings of the first. I fired off some shots and then lowered my camera and laid down to spend a little time watching them.

As I lay there watching, hoping that one of the snakes would venture out of the grassy tangle, another movement caught the corner of my eye. I peered into the blonde knot of grass, giving my eyes time to adjust. Suddenly, my brain registered a small blood orange eye moving in the grass. I followed the black line of zig-zags over pale grey scales. A male Adder!

This was a magnificent snake! The contrast of black on grey with red eye gives the male of the species that classic British venomous viper appearance that we are taught to fear. But as I lay there with three shy serpents in front of me it was clear that there was no reason for fear.

52% of Britains identify as being scared of snakes. It is a fact that 14 people have died as a result of Adder bites, but nobody has died since 1972 and the 14 deaths occurred over a period of 145 years of record keeping. In the same timeframe around 850 people died due to bee or wasp stings and 300 died due to lighting strikes. Yes, Adders pack a punch, but if we leave them alone, they will leave us alone. A bite is extremely unlikely to result in a human suffering anything more than painful localised effects.

I watched the snake’s alabaster tongue quivering in the cool morning air as he slithered from the grass and onto a bed of moss. His head was darting from side to side. I wondered if he was tracking breakfast of perhaps one of the beautiful ladies coiled nearby.

I didn’t get the answer, as he slithered into the grass and out of sight. It had been truly amazing and highly unexpected to encounter three adders in the same spot. I wondered why I hadn’t taken the time to do this years ago.

With the male Adder having slithered from sight I picked myself up from the ground and dusted the powdered sand from my clothes. I had started the day hoping to see an adder. The morning had far exceeded expectations. Not only had I seen and photographed snakes, I was able to experience them in a new way. Childhood fears of hidden venom had been permanently dispelled and replaced with admiration and appreciation for Britain’s beautiful, delicate, and vulnerable viper.

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Categories: United KingdomTags: animals, british wildlife, environment, Nature, photography, Reptiles, snake, wildlife