‘Be very careful, Susans, I have find an adder in the wheelbarrow.’
‘Nah, it’ll be a grass snake, Spiros.’
Stern glare. ‘Susans, don’t forget I am from Corfu.’
‘OK, it’s an adder.’
All God’s creatures are welcome here — but an adder? I was treated for my wasp allergy by Professor David Warrell, a world expert on venoms, snakes a speciality, and he says, ‘Never underestimate the humble adder.’
Oh, don’t worry. I now know what to do, am reassured that adders do not strike out at random and the household is on high alert to wear Wellingtons in long grass at all times. Naturally the adder has vanished. Spiros says it emerged to bask in the one day of warm sunshine this summer. Shakespeare agrees.
Badgers are no more welcome. There is a subterranean maze of their tunnels here and they are not the dear old stripy Brocks of The Wind in the Willows.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in