I spotted it at the exact same time my three dogs did, with me, at the top of my lungs, screaming, get away, get away.
It didn’t strike, it was already dead and the three crows above, knew it too. I rushed back to the house, grabbed my camera and a few objects from the shelf in my studio.
Knowing it had to be dead, I still approached with stick in hand. There was no sign of trauma, no blood or entrails, its tail looped perfectly in a circle, the protective respite for the carved stone Mayan head I held in my hand.
The snake, the serpent – one of the oldest, powerful and misunderstood creatures and mythological symbols present in every culture.